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m.^^A. 


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Iliiii 


LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 

Mr.    H.    H.    Kil lani 


UCSa  LIBRARX 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

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littp://www.arcliive.org/details/countrydoctorotliOObalziala 


WELL,    WHAT     IS     IT?-     BENASSIS     ASKED 


H.    DE     BALZAC 


THE 


Country  Doctor 

(Le  Medecin  de  Campagne) 

And  other  stories 


TRANSLATED    BY 


ELLEN    MARRIAGE 


WITH   A   PREFACE  BY 


GEORGE    SAINTSBURY 


^ 


PHILADELPHIA 

The  Gebbie  Publishing  Co.,  Ltd. 
1897 


CONTENTS. 


PREFACE 

THE   COUNTJiY  DOCTOR 

I.  THE  COUNTRYSIDE  AND   THE   MAN 

II.  A  doctor's  round      .        .        .        • 

III.  THE   NAPOLEON    OF  THE   PEOPLE 

IV.  THE  COUNTRY   DOCTOR'S  CONFESSION 
V.    ELEGIES 

THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY  {L' Interdiction) 
THE  ATHEISTS  MASS         ... 


77 
146 
202 
247 
283 
366 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

"WELL,   WHAT  IS   IT?"    BENASSIS   ASKED        .  .  FroJiHspiece 

PAGE 

"  M.   BENASSIS   WENT  OVER  THERE  " I9 

AN  OLD   LABORER   MAKING   HIS   WAY   ALONG   THE    ROAD,    IN    COM- 
PANY WITH   AN   AGED   WOMAN 99 

THE   MAN  OF  WHOM   HE  WAS   IN   SEARCH  SOON  APPEARED   ON   THE 

TOP   OF  A   PERPENDICULAR   CRAG I39 

I   TOOK   HER   UP  BEHIND   ME   IN  THE   SADDLE  ....      255 

Drazvn  by  JV.  Boucher, 


PREFACE. 

In  hardly  any  of  his  books,  with  the  possible  exception  of 
"Eugenie  Grandet,"  does  Balzac  seem  to  have  taken  a  greater 
interest  than  in  "The  Country  Doctor;  "  and  the  fact  of  this 
interest,  together  with  the  merit  and  intensity  of  the  book  in 
each  case,  is,  let  it  be  repeated,  a  valid  argument  against  those 
who  would  have  it  that  there  was  something  essentially  sinister 
both  in  his  genius  and  in  his  character. 

"The  Country  Doctor"  was  an  early  book;  it  was  pub- 
lished in  1833,  a  date  of  which  there  is  an  interesting  mark  in 
the  selection  of  the  name  "  Evelina,"  the  name  of  Madame 
Hanska,  whom  Balzac  had  just  met,  for  the  lost  Jansenist  love 
of  Benassis ;  and  it  had  been  on  the  stocks  for  a  considerable 
time.  It  is  also  noteworthy,  as  lying  almost  entirely  outside 
the  general  scheme  of  the  "Comedie  Humaine"  as  far  as 
personages  go.  Its  chief  characters  in  the  remarkable,  if  not 
absolutely  impeccable,  repertoire  of  MM.  Cerfberr  and  Chris- 
tophe  (they  have,  a  rare  thing  with  them,  missed  Agathe  the 
forsaken  mistress)  have  no  references  appended  to  their 
articles,  except  to  the  book  itself;  and  I  cannot  remember 
that  any  of  the  more  generally  pervading  dramatis  personce  of 
the  Comedy  makes  even  an  incidental  appearance  here.  The 
book  is  as  isolated  as  its  scene  and  subject — I  might  have 
added,  as  its  own  beauty,  which  is  singular  and  unique,  nor 
wholly  easy  to  give  a  critical  account  of.  The  minor  charac- 
ters and  episodes,  with  the  exception  of  the  wonderful  story 
or  legend  of  Napoleon  by  Private  Goguelat,  and  the  private 
himself,  are  neither  of  the  first  interest,  nor  always  carefully 

(ix) 


X  PREFACE. 

worked  out :  La  Fosseuse,  for  instance,  is  a  very  tantalizingly 
unfinished  study,  of  which  it  is  nearly  certain  that  Balzac  must 
at  some  time  or  other  have  meant  to  make  much  more  than 
he  has  made ;  Genestas,  excellent  as  far  as  he  goes,  is  not  much 
more  than  a  type ;  and  there  is  nobody  else  in  the  foreground 
at  all  except  Benassis  himself. 

It  is,  however,  beyond  all  doubt  in  the  very  subordination 
of  these  other  characters  to  Benassis,  and  in  the  skilful  group- 
ing of  the  whole  as  background  and  adjunct  to  him,  that  the 
appeal  of  the  book  as  art  consists.  From  that  point  of  view 
there  are  grounds  for  regarding  it  as  the  finest  of  the  author's 
work  in  the  simple  style,  the  least  indebted  to  superadded 
ornament  or  to  mere  variety.  The  dangerous  expedient  of  a 
recit,  of  which  the  eighteenth-century  novelists  were  so  fond, 
has  never  been  employed  with  more  successful  effect  than  in 
the  confession  of  Benassis,  at  once  the  climax  and  the  centre 
of  the  story.  And  one  thing  which  strikes  us  immediately 
about  this  confession  is  the  universality  of  its  humanity  and  its 
strange  freedom  from  merely  national  limitations.  To  very 
few  French  novelists — to  few  even  of  those  who  are  generally 
credited  with  a  much  softer  mould  and  a  much  purer  morality 
than  Balzac  is  popularly  supposed  to  have  been  able  to  boast 
— would  inconstancy  to  a  mistress  have  seemed  a  fault  which 
could  be  reasonably  punished,  which  could  be  even  reasonably 
represented  as  having  been  punished,  in  fact,  by  the  refusal  of 
an  honest  girl's  love  in  the  first  place.  Nor  would  many  have 
conceived  as  possible,  or  have  been  able  to  represent  in  life- 
like colors,  the  lifelong  penance  which  Benassis  imposes  on 
himself.  The  tragic  end,  indeed,  is  more  in  their  general 
way,  but  they  would  seldom  have  known  how  to  lead  up  to  it. 

In  almost  all  ways  Balzac  has  saved  himself  from  the  dangers 
incident  to  his  plan  in  this  book  after  a  rather  miraculous 
fashion.  The  Goguelat  myth  may  seem  disconnected,  and  he 
did  as  a  matter  of  fact  once  publish  '\f  separately ;  yet  it  sets 
off  (in  the  same  sort  of  felicitous  manner  of  which  Shake 


PREFACE.  xi 

speare's  clown-scenes  and  others  are  the  capital  examples  in 
literature)  both  the  slightly  matter-of-fact  details  of  the  beati- 
fication of  the  valley  and  the  various  minute  sketches  of  places 
and  folk,  and  the  almost  superhuman  goodness  of  Benassis, 
and  his  intensely  and  piteously  human  suffering  and  remorse. 
It  is  like  the  red  cloak  in  a  group ;  it  lights,  warms,  inspirits 
the  whole  picture. 

And  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  thing  of  all  is  the  way  in 
which  Balzac  in  this  story,  so  full  of  goodness  of  feeling,  of 
true  religion  (for  if  Benassis  is  not  an  ostensible  practiser  of 
religious  rites,  he  avows  his  orthodoxy  in  theory,  and  more 
than  justifies  it  in  practice),  has  almost^  entirely  escaped 
the  sentimentality  plus  unorthodoxy  of  similar  work  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  the  sentimentality  plus  orthodoxy  of 
similar  work  in  the  nineteenth.  Benassis  no  doubt  plays 
Providence  in  a  manner  and  with  a  success  which  it  is  rarely 
given  to  mortal  man  to  achieve ;  but  we  do  not  feel  either  the 
approach  to  sham,  or  the  more  than  approach  to  gush,  with 
which  similar  handling  on  the  part  of  Dickens  too  often  af- 
fects some  of  us.  The  sin  and  the  punishment  of  Benassis, 
the  thoroughly  human  figures  of  Genestas  and  the  rest,  save 
the  situation  from  this  and  other  drawbacks.  We  are  not  in 
the  Cockaigne  of  perfectibility,  where  Marmontel  and  God- 
win disport  themselves  ;  we  are  in  a  very  practical  place,  where 
time-bargains  in  barley  are  made,  and  you  pay  the  respectable, 
if  not  lavish,  board  of  ten  francs  per  day  for  entertainment  to 
man  and  beast. 

And  yet,  explain  as  we  will,  there  will  always  remain  some- 
thing inexplicable  in  the  appeal  of  such  a  book  as  "  The 
Country  Doctor."  This  helps,  and  that,  and  the  other;  we 
can  see  what  change  might  have  damaged  the  effect,  and  what 
have  endangered  it  altogether.  We  must,  of  course,  acknowl- 
edge that  as  it  is  there  are  longueurs  (tedious  stretches),  intru- 
sionsof  Saint  Simonian  jargon,  passages oi galimatias {nox\%tVi%€) 
and  of  preaching.    But  of  what  in  strictness  produces  the  good 


xii  PREFACE. 

effect  we  can  only  say  one  thing,  and  that  is,  it  was  the  genius 
of  Balzac  working  as  it  listed  and  as  it  knew  how  to  work. 

The  book  was  originally  published  by  Mme.  Delaunay  in 
September,  1833,  in  two  volumes  and  thirty-six  chapters  with 
headings.  Next  year  it  was  republished  in  four  volumes  by 
Werdet,  and  the  last  fifteen  chapters  were  thrown  together 
into  four.  In  1836  it  reappeared  with  dedication  and  date, 
but  with  the  divisions  further  reduced  to  seven ;  being  those 
which  here  appear,  with  the  addition  of  two,  "  La  Fosseuse  " 
and  "Propos  de  Braves  Gens,"  between  "A  Travers  Champs" 
and  "Le  Napoleon  du  Peuple."  These  two  were  removed  in 
1839,  when  it  was  published  in  a  single  volume  by  Charpen- 
tier.  In  all  these  issues  the  book  was  independent.  It  be- 
came a  "Scene  de  la  Vie  de  Campagne  "  in  1846,  and  was 
then  admitted  into  the  "Comedie."  The  separate  issues  of 
Goguelat's  story  referred  to  above  made  their  appearance  first 
in  L' Europe  Litteraire  for  June  19,  1833  {before  the  book 
form),  and  then  with  the  imprint  of  a  sort  of  syndicate  of 
publishers  in  1842. 

Of  the  two  short  stories,  '*  The  Atheist's  Mass"  is  the 
greatest.  Its  extreme  brevity  makes  it  almost  impossible  for 
the  author  to  indulge  in  those  digressions  from  which  he  never 
could  entirely  free  himself  when  he  allowed  himself  much 
room.  We  do  not  hear  more  of  the  inward  character  of  Des- 
plein  than  is  necessary  to  make  us  appreciate  the  touching 
history  which  is  the  centre  of  the  anecdote;  the  thing  in 
general  could  not  be  presented  at  greater  advantage  than  it  is. 
Nor  in  itself  could  it  be  much,  if  at  all,  better.  As  usual,  it  is 
more  or  less  of  a  personal  confession.  Balzac,  it  must  always 
be  remembered,  was  himself  pretty  definitely  "on  the  side  of 
the  angels."  As  a  Frenchman,  as  a  man  with  a  strong 
eighteenth-century  tincture  in  him,  as  a  student  of  Rabelais, 
as  one  not  too  much  given  to  regard  nature  and  fate  through 
rose-colored  spectacles,  as  a  product  of  more  or  less  godless 
education  (for  his   schooldays  came  before  the  neo-Catholic 


PREFACE.  xiil 

revival),  and  in  many  other  ways,  he  was  not  exactly  an  or- 
thodox person.  But  he  had  no  ideas  foreign  to  orthodoxy  ; 
and  neither  in  his  novels,  nor  in  his  letters,  nor  elsewhere, 
would  it  be  possible  to  find  a  private  expression  of  unbelief. 
And  such  a  story  as  this  is  worth  a  bookseller's  storehouse  full 
of  tracts,  coming  as  it  does  from  Honore  de  Balzac. 

"  The  Commission  in  Lunacy  "  is  sufficiently  different,  but 
it  is  almost  equally  good  in  its  own  way.  It  is  indeed  impos- 
sible to  say  that  there  is  not  in  the  manner,  though  perhaps 
there  may  be  none  in  the  fact,  of  the  Marquis  d'Espard's  resti- 
tution and  the  rest  of  it  a  little  touch  of  the  madder  side  of 
Quixotism ;  and  one  sees  all  the  speculative  and  planning 
Balzac  in  that  notable  scheme  of  the  great  work  on  China, 
which  brought  in  far,  far  more,  I  fear,  than  any  work  on 
China  ever  has  or  is  likely  to  bring  in  to  its  devisers.  But 
the  conduct  of  Popinot  in  his  interview  with  the  Marquis  is 
really  admirable.  The  great  scenes  of  fictitious yf«(fjj<f  do  not 
always  "come  off;"  we  do  not  invariably  find  ourselves  ex- 
periencing that  sense  of  the  ability  of  the  characters  which  the 
novelist  appears  to  entertain,  and  expects  us  to  entertain  like- 
wise. But  this  is  admirable;  it  is,  with  Bernard's  "  Le 
Gendre,"  perhaps  the  very  best  thing  of  the  kind  to  be  found 
anywhere.  These  two  stories,  "  The  Commission  in  Lunacy  " 
and  "The  Atheist's  Mass,"  would,  if  they  existed  entirely  by 
themselves,  and  if  we  knew  nothing  of  their  author,  nor  any- 
thing about  him,  suffice  to  show  any  intelligent  critic  that 
genius  of  no  ordinary  kind  had  passed  by  there. 

G.  S. 


THE  COUNTRY  DOCTOR 

j"  For  a  wounded  heart — shadow  and  silence." 

To  my  Mother. 

I. 

THE  COUNTRYSIDE  AND  THE  MAN. 

On  a  lovely  spring  morning  in  the  year  1829,  a  man  of 
fifty  or  thereabouts  was  wending  his  way  on  horseback  along 
the  mountain  road  that  leads  to  a  large  village  near  the  Grande 
Chartreuse.  This  village  is  the  market-town  of  a  populous 
canton  that  lies  within  the  limits  of  a  valley  of  some  consid- 
erable length.  The  melting  of  the  snows  had  filled  the 
boulder-strewn  bed  of  the  torrent  (often  dry)  that  flows  through 
this  valley,  which  is  closely  shut  in  between  two  parallel 
mountain  barriers,  above  which  the  peaks  of  Savoy  and  of 
Dauphin6  tower  on  every  side. 

All  the  scenery  of  the  country  that  lies  between  the  chain 
of  the  two  Mauriennes  is  very  much  alike ;  yet  here  in  the 
district  through  which  the  stranger  was  traveling  there  are 
soft  undulations  of  the  land,  and  varying  effects  of  light  which 
might  be  sought  for  elsewhere  in  vain.  Sometimes  the 
valley,  suddenly  widening,  spreads  out  a  soft  irregularly- 
shaped  carpet  of  grass  before  the  eyes ;  a  meadow  constantly 
watered  by  the  mountain  streams,  that  keep  it  fresh  and  green 
at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  Sometimes  a  roughly-built  sawmill 
appears  in  a  picturesque  position-,  with  its  stacks  of  long  pine 
trunks  with  the  bark  peeled  off,  and  its  mill  stream,  brought 
from  the  bed  of  the  torrent  in  great  square  wooden  pipes,  with 
masses  of  dripping  filament  issuing  from  every  crack.     Little 

(1) 


2  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

cottages,  scattered  here  and  there,  with  their  gardens  full  of 
blossoming  fruit  trees,  call  up  the  ideas  that  are  aroused  by 
the  sight  of  industrious  poverty ;  while  the  thought  of  ease, 
secured  after  long  years  of  toil,  is  suggested  by  some 
larger  houses  farther  on,  with  their  red  roofs  of  flat  round 
tiles,  shaped  like  the  scales  of  a  fish.  There  is  no  door, 
moreover,  that  does  not  duly  exhibit  a  basket  in  which  the 
cheeses  are  hung  up  to  dry.  Every  roadside  and  every  croft 
is  adorned  with  vines;  which  here,  as  in  Italy,  they  train  to 
grow  about  dwarf  elm  trees,  whose  leaves  are  stripped  off  to 
feed  the  cattle. 

Nature,  in  her  caprice,  has  brought  the  sloping  hills  on 
either  side  so  near  together  in  some  places  that  there  is  no 
room  for  fields,  or  buildings,  or  peasants'  huts.  Nothing  lies 
between  them  but  the  torrent,  roaring  over  its  waterfalls  be- 
tween two  lofty  walls  of  granite  that  rise  above  it,  their  sides 
covered  with  the  leafage  of  tall  beeches  and  dark  fir  trees  to 
the  height  of  a  hundred  feet.  The  trees,  with  their  different 
kinds  of  foliage,  rise  up  straight  and  tall,  fantastically  colored 
by  patches  of  lichen,  forming  magnificent  colonnades,  with  a 
line  of  straggling  hedgerow  of  guelder  rose,  briar  rose,  box 
and  arbutus  above  and  below  the  roadway  at  their  feet. 
The  subtle  perfume  of  this  undergrowth  was  mingled  just 
then  with  scents  from  the  wild  mountain  region  and  with 
the  aromatic  fragrance  of  young  larch  shoots,  budding  poplars, 
and  resinous  pines. 

Here  and  there  a  wreath  of  mist  about  the  heights  some- 
times hid  and  sometimes  gave  glimpses  of  the  gray  crags,  that 
seemed  as  dim  and  vague  as  the  soft  flecks  of  cloud  dispersed 
among  them.  The  whole  face  of  the  country  changed  every 
moment  with  the  changing  light  in  the  sky;  the  hues  of  the 
mountains,  the  soft  shades  of  their  lower  slopes,  the  very 
shape  of  the  valleys  seemed  to  vary  continually.  A  ray  of 
sunlight  through  the  tree  stems,  a  clear  space  made  by  nature 
in  the  woods,  or  a  landslip  here  and  there,  coming  as  a  sur- 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  3 

prise  to  make  a  contrast  in  the  foreground,  made  up  an 
endless  series  of  pictures  delightful  to  see  amid  the  silence, 
at  the  time  of  year  when  all  things  grow  young,  and  when 
the  sun  fills  a  cloudless  heaven  with  a  blaze  of  light.  In 
short,  it  was  a  fair  land — it  was  the  land  of  France ! 

The  traveler  was  a  tall  man,  dressed  from  head  to  foot  in  a 
suit  of  blue  cloth,  which  must  have  been  brushed  just  as 
carefully  every  morning  as  the  glossy  coat  of  his  horse.  He 
held  himself  firm  and  erect  in  the  saddle  like  an  old  cavalry 
officer.  Even  if  his  black  cravat  and  doeskin  gloves,  the 
jMstols  that  filled  his  holsters,  and  the  valise  securely  fastened 
to  the  crupper  behind  him  had  not  combined  to  mark  him  out 
as  a  soldier,  the  air  of  unconcern  that  sat  on  his  face,  his 
regular  features  (scarred  though  they  were  with  the  smallpox), 
his  determined  manner,  self-reliant  expression,  and  the  way 
he  held  his  head,  all  revealed  the  habits  acquired  through 
military  discipline,  of  which  a  soldier  can  never  quite  divest 
himself,  even  after  he  has  retired  from  service  into  private 
life. 

Any  other  traveler  would  have  been  filled  with  wonder  at 
the  loveliness  of  this  Alpine  region,  which  grows  so  bright 
and  smiling  as  it  becomes  merged  in  the  great  valley  systems 
of  southern  France ;  but  the  officer,  who  no  doubt  had  previ- 
ously traversed  a  country  across  which  the  French  armies  had 
been  drafted  in  the  course  of  Napoleon's  wars,  enjoyed  the 
view  before  him  without  appearing  to  be  surprised  by  the 
many  changes  that  swept  across  it.  It  would  seem  that  Napo- 
leon has  extinguished  in  his  soldiers  the  sensation  of  wonder ; 
for  an  impassive  face  is  a  sure  token  by  which  you  may  know 
the  men  who  served  erewhile  under  the  short-lived  yet  death- 
less eagles  of  the  great  Emperor.  The  traveler  was,  in  fact, 
one  of  those  soldiers  (seldom  met  with  nowadays)  whom  shot 
and  shell  have  respected,  although  they  have  borne  their  part 
on  every  battlefield  where  Napoleon  commanded. 

There  had  been  nothing  unusual  in  his  life.     He  had  fought 


4  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

valiantly  in  the  ranks  as  a  simple  and  loyal  soldier,  doing  his 
duty  as  faithfully  by  night  as  by  day,  and  whether  in  or  out 
of  his  officer's  sight.  He  had  never  dealt  a  sabre  stroke  in 
vain,  and  was  incapable  of  giving  one  too  many.  If  he  wore 
at  his  buttonhole  the  rosette  of  an  officer  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor,  it  was  because  the  unanimous  voice  of  his  regiment 
had  singled  him  out  as  the  man  who  best  deserved  to  receive 
it  after  the  battle  of  Borodino. 

He  belonged  to  that  small  minority  of  undemonstrative 
retiring  natures,  who  are  always  at  peace  with  themselves,  and 
who  are  conscious  of  a  feeling  of  humiliation  at  the  mere 
thought  of  making  a  request,  no  matter  what  its  nature  may 
be.  So  promotion  had  come  to  him  tardily,  and  by  virtue  of 
the  slowly- working  laws  of  seniority.  He  had  been  made  a 
sub-lieutenant  in  1802,  but  it  was  not  until  1829  that  he 
became  a  major,  in  spite  of  the  grayness  of  his  mustaches. 
His  life  had  been  so  blameless  that  no  man  in  the  army,  not 
even  the  general  himself,  could  approach  him  without  an 
involuntary  feeling  of  respect.  It  is  possible  that  he  was  not 
forgiven  for  this  indisputable  superiority  by  those  who  ranked 
above  him ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  not  one  of  his 
men  that  did  not  feel  for  him  something  of  the  affection  of 
children  for  a  good  mother.  For  them  he  knew  how  to  be 
at  once  indulgent  and  severe.  He  himself  had  also  once 
served  in  the  ranks,  and  knew  the  sorry  joys  and  gaily-endured 
hardships  of  the  soldier's  lot.  He  knew  the  errors  that  may 
be  passed  over  and  the  faults  that  must  be  punished  in  his 
men — "his  children,"  as  he  always  called  them — and  when 
on  campaign  he  readily  gave  them  leave  to  forage  for  provi- 
sions for  man  or  horse  among  the  wealthier  classes. 

His  own  personal  history  lay  buried  beneath  the  deepest 
reserve.  Like  almost  every  military  man  in  Europe,  he  had 
only  seen  the  world  through  cannon  smoke,  or  in  the  brief 
intervals  of  peace  that  occurred  so  seldom  during  the  Em- 
peror's continual  wars  with  the  rest  of  Europe.     Had  he  or 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  5 

had  he  not  thought  of  marriage?  The  question  remained 
unsettled.  Ahhough  no  one  doubted  that  Commandant 
Genestas  had  made  conquests  during  his  sojourn  in  town  after 
town  and  country  after  country  where  he  had  taken  part 
in  the  festivities  given  and  received  by  the  officers,  yet  no 
one  knew  this  for  a  certainty.  There  was  no  prudery 
about  him  ;  he  would  not  decline  to  join  a  pleasure  party ; 
he  in  no  way  offended  against  military  standards  ;  but  when 
questioned  as  to  his  affairs  of  the  heart,  he  either  kept  silence 
or  answered  with  a  jest.  To  the  words,  "  How  about  you, 
commandant?  "  addressed  to  him  by  an  officer  over  the  wine, 
his  reply  was,  "  Pass  the  bottle,  gentlemen." 

M.  Pierre  Joseph  Genestas  was  an  unostentatious  kind  of 
Bayard.  There  was  nothing  romantic  nor  picturesque  about 
him — he  was  too  thoroughly  commonplace.  His  ways  of 
living  were  those  of  a  well-to-do  man.  Although  he  had 
nothing  beside  his  pay,  and  his  pension  was  all  that  he  had  to 
look  to  in  the  future,  the  major  always  kept  two  years'  pay 
untouched,  and  never  spent  his  allowances,  like  some  shrewd 
old  men  of  business  with  whom  cautious  prudence  has  almost 
become  a  mania.  He  was  so  little  of  a  gambler  that  if,  when 
in  company,  some  one  was  wanted  to  cut  in  or  take  a  bet  at 
ecarte,  he  usually  fixed  his  eyes  on  his  boots ;  but  though  he 
did  not  allow  himself  any  extravagances,  he  conformed  in 
every  way  to  custom. 

His  uniforms  lasted  longer  than  those  of  any  other  officer  in 
his  regiment,  as  a  consequence  of  the  sedulously  careful  habits 
that  somewhat  straitened  means  had  so  instilled  into  him,  that 
they  had  come  to  be  like  a  second  nature.  Perhaps  he  might 
have  been  suspected  of  meanness  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
fact  that  with  wonderful  disinterestedness  and  all  a  comrade's 
readiness,  his  purse  would  be  opened  for  some  harebrained 
boy  who  had  ruined  himself  at  cards  or  by  some  other  folly. 
He  did  a  service  of  this  kind  with  such  thoughtful  tact,  that 
it  seemed  as  though  he  himself  had  at  one  time  lost  heavy 


6  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

sums  at  play ;  he  never  considered  that  he  had  any  right  to 
control  the  actions  of  his  debtor ;  he  never  made  mention  of 
the  loan.  He  was  the  child  of  his  company  ;  he  was  alone  in 
the  world,  so  he  had  adopted  the  army  for  his  fatherland,  and 
the  regiment  for  his  family.  Very  rarely,  therefore,  did  any 
one  seek  the  motives  underlying  his  praiseworthy  turn  for 
thrift ;  for  it  pleased  others,  for  the  most  part,  to  set  it  down 
to  a  not  unnatural  wish  to  increase  the  amount  of  the  savings 
that  were  to  render  his  old  age  comfortable.  Till  the  eve  of 
his  promotion  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant-colonel  of  cavalry  it 
was  fair  to  suppose  that  it  was  his  ambition  to  retire  in  the 
course  of  some  campaign  with  a  colonel's  epaulettes  and 
pension. 

If  Genestas'  name  came  up  when  the  officers  gossipped 
after  drill,  they  were  wont  to  classify  him  among  the  men 
who  begin  with  taking  the  good-conduct  prize  at  school,  and 
who,  throughout  the  term  of  their  natural  lives,  continue  to 
be  punctilious,  conscientious  and  passionless — as  good  as  white 
bread,  and  just  as  insipid.  Thoughtful  minds,  however,  re- 
garded him  very  differently.  Not  seldom  it  would  happen 
that  a  glance,  or  an  expression  as  full  of  significance  as  the 
utterance  of  a  savage,  would  drop  from  him  and  bear  witness 
to  past  storms  in  his  soul ;  and  a  careful  study  of  his  placid 
brow  revealed  a  power  of  stifling  down  and  repressing  his  pas- 
sions into  inner  depths,  that  had  been  dearly  bought  by  a 
lengthy  acquaintance  with  the  perils  and  disastrous  hazards 
of  war.  An  officer  who  had  only  just  joined  the  regiment, 
the  son  of  a  peer  of  France,  had  said  one  day  of  Genestas 
that  he  would  have  made  one  of  the  most  conscientious  of 
priests  or  the  most  upright  of  tradesmen. 

"Add,  the  least  of  a  courtier  among  marquises,"  put  in 
Genestas,  scanning  the  young  puppy,  who  did  not  know  that 
his  commandant  could  overhear  him. 

There  was  a  burst  of  laughter  at  the  words,  for  the  lieu- 
tenant's father  cringed  to  all  the  powers  that  be;  he. was  a 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  7 

man   of  supple   intellect,   accustomed   to  jump  with   every 
change  of  government,  and  his  son  took  after  him. 

Men  like  Genestas  are  met  with  now  and  again  in  the 
French  army  ;  natures  that  show  themselves  to  be  wholly 
great  at  need,  and  relapse  into  their  ordinary  simplicity  when 
the  action  is  over ;  men  that  are  little  mindful  of  fame  and 
reputation,  and  utterly  forgetful  of  danger.  Perhaps  there 
are  many  more  of  them  than  the  shortcomings  of  our  own 
characters  will  allow  us  to  imagine.  Yet,  for  all  that,  any 
one  who  believed  that  Genestas  was  perfect  would  be  strangely 
deceiving  himself.  The  major  was  suspicious,  given  to  violent 
outbursts  of  anger,  and  apt  to  be  tiresome  in  argument ;  he 
was  full  of  national  prejudices,  and,  above  all  things,  would 
insist  that  he  was  in  the  right  when  he  was,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  in  the  wrong.  He  retained  the  liking  for  good  wine 
that  he  had  acquired  in  the  ranks.  If  he  rose  from  a  banquet 
with  all  the  gravity  befitting  his  position,  he  seemed  serious 
and  pensive,  and  had  no  mind  at  such  times  to  admit  any  one 
into  his  confidence. 

Finally,  although  he  was  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the 
customs  of  society  and  with  the  laws  of  politeness,  to  which 
he  conformed  as  rigidly  as  if  they  had  been  military  regula- 
tions; though  he  had  real  mental  power,  both  natural  and 
acquired  ;  and  although  he  had  mastered  the  art  of  handling 
men,  the  science  of  tactics,  the  theory  of  sabre  play,  and  the 
mysteries  of  the  farrier's  craft,  his  learning  had  been  pro- 
digiously neglected.  He  knew  in  a  hazy  kind  of  way  that 
Caesar  was  a  Roman  consul,  or  an  emperor,  and  that  Alexan- 
der was  either  a  Greek  or  a  Macedonian  ;  he  would  have 
conceded  either  quality  or  origin  in  both  cases  without  dis- 
cussion. If  the  conversation  turned  on  science  or  history,  he 
was  wont  to  become  thoughtful,  and  to  confine  his  share  in  it 
to  little  approving  nods,  like  a  man  who  by  dint  of  profound 
thought  has  arrived  at  scepticism. 

When,  at  Schonbrunn,  on  May  13,  1809,  Napoleon  wrote 


8  THE    COUNTR  Y  DOCTOR. 

the  bulletin  addressed  to  the  Grand  Army,  then  the  masters 
of  Vienna,  in  which  he  said  that  like  Medea,  the  Austrian 
princes  had  slain  their  children  with  their  own  hands ;  Genestas, 
who  had  been  recently  made  a  captain,  did  not  wish  to  com- 
promise his  newly  conferred  dignity  by  asking  who  Medea 
was  ;  he  relied  upon  Napoleon's  character,  and  felt  quite  sure 
that  the  Emperor  was  incapable  of  making  any  announcement 
not  in  proper  form  to  the  Grand  Army  and  the  House  of 
Austria.  So  he  thought  that  Medea  was  some  archduchess 
whose  conduct  laid  her  open  to  criticism.  Still,  as  the  mat- 
ter might  have  some  bearing  on  the  art  of  war,  he  felt  uneasy 
about  the  Medea  of  the  bulletin  until  a  day  arrived,  when 
Mile.  Raucourt  revived  the  tragedy  of  Medea.  The  captain 
saw  the  placard,  and  did  not  fail  to  repair  to  the  Theatre 
Frangais  that  evening,  to  see  the  celebrated  actress  in  her 
mythological  role,  concerning  which  he  gained  some  informa- 
tion from  his  neighbors. 

A  man,  however,  who  as  a  private  soldier  had  possessed 
sufficient  force  of  character  to  learn  to  read,  write,  and 
cipher,  could  clearly  understand  that  as  a  captain  he  ought  to 
continue  his  education.  So  from  this  time  forth  he  read  new 
books  and  romances  with  avidity,  in  this  way  gaining  a  half- 
knowledge,  of  which  he  made  a  very  fair  use.  He  went  so 
far  in  his  gratitude  to  his  teachers  as  to  undertake  the  defence 
of  Pigault-Lebrun,  remarking  that  in  his  opinion  he  was 
instructive  and  not  seldom  profound. 

This  officer,  whose  acquired  practical  wisdom  did  not 
allow  him  to  make  any  journey  in  vain,  had  just  come  from 
Grenoble,  and  was  on  his  way  to  the  Grande  Chartreuse,  after 
obtaining  on  the  previous  evening  a  week's  leave  of  absence 
from  his  colonel.  He  had  not  expected  that  the  journey 
would  be  a  long  one  ;  but  when,  league  after  league,  he  had 
been  misled  as  to  the  distance  by  the  lying  statements  of  the 
peasants,  he  thought  it  would  be  prudent  not  to  venture  any 
farther  without  fortifying  the  inner  man.     Small  as  were  his 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  9 

chances  of  finding  any  housewife  in  her  dwelling  at  a  time 
when  every  one  was  hard  at  work  in  the  fields,  he  stopped  be- 
fore a  little  cluster  of  cottages  that  stood  about  a  piece  of  land 
common  to  all  of  them,  more  or  less  describing  a  square, 
which  was  open  to  all  comers. 

The  surface  of  the  soil  thus  held  in  conjoint  ownership  was 
hard  and  carefully  swept,  but  intersected  by  open  drains. 
Roses,  ivy,  and  tall  grasses  grew  over  the  cracked  and  dis- 
jointed walls.  Some  rags  were  drying  on  a  miserable  cur- 
rant bush  that  stood  at  the  entrance  of  the  square.  A  pig 
wallowing  in  a  heap  of  straw  was  the  first  inhabitant  encount- 
ered by  Genestas.  At  the  sound  of  horsehoofs  the  creature 
grunted,  raised  its  head,  and  put  a  great  black  cat  to  flight. 
A  young  peasant  girl,  who  was  carrying  a  bundle  of  grass  on 
her  head,  suddenly  appeared,  followed  at  a  distance  by  four 
little  brats,  clad  in  rags,  it  is  true,  but  vigorous,  sunburned, 
picturesque,  bold-eyed,  and  riotous ;  thorough  little  imps, 
looking  like  angels.  The  sun  shone  down  with  an  indescrib- 
able purifying  influence  upon  the  air,  the  wretched  cottages, 
the  heaps  of  refuse,  and  the  unkempt  little  crew. 

The  soldier  asked  whether  it  was  possible  to  obtain  a  cup 
of  milk.  All  the  answer  the  girl  made  him  was  a  hoarse  cry. 
An  old  woman  suddenly  appeared  on  the  threshold  of  one  of 
the  cabins,  and  the  young  peasant  girl  passed  on  into  a  cow- 
shed, with  a  gesture  that  pointed  out  the  aforesaid  old  woman, 
towards  whom  Genestas  went ;  taking  care  at  the  same  time 
to  keep  a  tight  hold  on  his  horse,  lest  the  children  who  already 
were  running  about  under  his  hoofs  should  be  hurt.  He 
repeated  his  request,  with  which  the  housewife  flatly  refused 
to  comply.  She  would  not,  she  said,  disturb  the  cream  on 
the  pans  full  of  milk  from  which  butter  was  to  be  made.  The 
officer  overcame  this  objection  by  undertaking  to  repay  her 
amply  for  the  wasted  cream,  and  then  tied  up  his  horse  at  the 
door,  and  went  inside  the  cottage. 

The  four  children  belonging  to  the  woman  all  appeared  to 


JO  ,  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

be  of  the  same  age — an  odd  circumstance  which  struck  the 
commandant.  A  fifth  clung  about  her  skirts  ;  a  weak,  pale, 
sickly-looking  child,  who  doubtless  needed  more  care  than 
the  others,  and  who  on  that  account  was  the  best  beloved,  the 
Benjamin  of  the  family. 

Genestas  seated  himself  in  a  corner  by  the  fireless  hearth. 
A  sublime  symbol  met  his  eyes  on  the  high  mantleshelf  above 
him — a  colored  plaster  cast  of  the  Virgin  with  the  Child 
Jesus  in  her  arms.  Bare  earth  made  the  flooring  of  the  cot- 
tage. It  had  been  beaten  level  in  the  first  instance,  but  in 
course  of  time  it  had  grown  rough  and  uneven,  so  that 
though  it  was  clean,  its  ruggedness  was  not  unlike  that  of  the 
magnified  rind  of  an  orange.  A  sabot  filled  with  salt,  a  fry- 
ing-pan, and  a  large  kettle  hung  inside  the  chimney.  The 
farther  end  of  the  room  was  completely  filled  by  a  four-post 
bedstead,  with  a  scalloped  valance  for  decoration.  The  walls 
were  black  ;  there  was  an  opening  to  admit  the  light  above 
the  worm-eaten  door ;  and  here  and  there  were  a  few  stools 
consisting  of  rough  blocks  of  beechwood,  each  set  upon 
three  wooden  legs  ;  a  hutch  for  bread,  a  large  wooden  dipper, 
a  bucket  and  some  earthen  milk-pans,  a  spinning-wheel  on  the 
top  of  the  bread-hutch,  and  a  few  wicker  mats  for  draining 
cheeses.  Such  were  the  ornaments  and  household  furniture  of 
the  wretched  dwelling. 

The  officer,  who  had  been  absorbed  in  flicking  his  riding- 
whip  against  the  floor,  presently  became  a  witness  to  a  piece 
of  by-play,  all  unsuspicious  though  he  was  that  any  drama 
was  about  to  unfold  itself.  No  sooner  had  the  old  woman, 
followed  by  her  scald-headed  Benjamin,  disappeared  through 
a  door  that  led  into  her  dairy,  than  the  four  children,  after 
having  stared  at  the  soldier  as  long  as  they  wished,  drove 
away  the  pig  by  way  of  a  beginning.  This  animal,  their 
accustomed  playmate,  having  come  as  far  as  the  threshold,  the 
little  brats  made  such  an  energetic  attack  upon  him  that  he 
was  forced  to  beat  a  hasty  retreat.     When  the  enemy  had 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  11 

been  driven  without,  the  children  besieged  the  latch  of  a  door 
that  gave  away  before  their  united  efforts,  and  slipped  out  of 
the  worn  staple  that  held  it ;  and  finally  they  bolted  into  a 
kind  of  fruit-loft,  where  they  very  soon  fell  to  munching  the 
dried  plums,  to  the  amusement  of  the  commandant,  who 
watched  this  spectacle.  The  old  woman,  with  the  face  like 
parchment  and  the  dirty  ragged  clothing,  came  back  at  this 
moment,  with  a  jug  of  milk  for  her  visitor  in  her  hand. 

**  Oh  !  you  good-for-nothings  !  "  cried  she. 

She  ran  to  the  children,  clutched  an  arm  of  each  child, 
bundled  them  into  the  room,  and  carefully  closed  the  door  of 
her  storehouse  of  plenty.  But  she  did  not  take  their  prunes 
away  from  them. 

"  Now,  then,  be  good,  my  pets  !  If  one  did  not  look  after 
them,"  she  went  on,  looking  at  Genestas,  "  they  would  eat  up 
the  whole  lot  of  prunes,  the  madcaps  !  " 

Then  she  seated  herself  on  a  three-legged  stool,  drew  the 
little  weakling  between  her  knees,  and  began  to  comb  and 
wash  his  head  with  a  woman's  skill  and  with  motherly  assid- 
uity. The  four  small  thieves  hung  about.  Some  of  them 
stood,  others  leaned  against  the  bed  or  the  bread-hutch.  They 
gnawed  their  prunes  without  saying  a  word,  but  they  kept 
their  sly  and  mischievous  eyes  fixed  upon  the  stranger.  In 
spite  of  grimy  countenances  and  noses  that  stood  in  need  of 
wiping,  they  all  looked  strong  and  healthy. 

"Are  they  your  children?"  the  soldier  asked  the  old 
woman. 

"Asking  your  pardon,  sir,  they  are  charity-children.  They 
give  me  three  francs  a  month  and  a  pound's  weight  of  soap 
for  each  of  them." 

"  But  it  must  cost  you  twice  as  much  as  that  to  keep  them, 
good  woman  ?  ' ' 

"That  is  just  what  M.  Benassis  tells  me,  sir;  but  if  other 
folk  will  board  the  children  for  the  same  money,  one  has  to 
make  it  do.     Nobody  wants  the  children,  but  for  all  that 


12  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

there  is  a  good  deal  of  performance  to  go  through  before  they 
will  let  us  have  them.  When  the  milk  we  give  them  comes  to 
nothing,  they  cost  us  scarcely  anything.  Besides  that,  three 
francs  is  a  great  deal,  sir;  there  are  fifteen  francs  coming  in, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  five  pounds'  weight  of  soap.  In  our 
part  of  the  world  you  would  simply  have  to  wear  your  life 
out  before  you  would  make  ten  sous  a  day,"  responded  the 
good  woman. 

"Then  you  have  some  land  of  your  own?"  asked  the 
commandant. 

"  No,  sir.  I  had  some  land  once  when  my  husband  was 
alive ;  since  he  died  I  have  done  so  badly  that  I  had  to 
sell  it." 

"Why,  how  do  you  reach  the  year's  end  without  debts?  " 
Genestas  went  on,  "when  you  bring  up  children  for  a  live- 
lihood and  wash  and  feed  them  on  two  sous  a  day  ?  " 

"Well,  we  never  get  to  St.  Sylvester's  Day  without  debt, 
sir."  She  went  on  without  ceasing  to  comb  the  child's  hair. 
"But  so  it  is — Providence  helps  us  out.  I  have  a  couple  of 
cows.  Then  my  daughter  and  I  do  some  gleaning  at  harvest- 
time,  and  in  winter  we  pick  up  firewood.  Then  at  night  we 
spin.  Ah  !  we  never  want  to  see  another  winter  like  this  last 
one,  that  is  certain  !  I  owe  the  miller  seventy-five  francs  for 
flour.  Luckily  he  is  M.  Benassis'  miller.  M.  Benassis,  ah  ! 
he  is  a  friend  to  poor  people.  He  has  never  asked  for  his  due 
from  anybody,  and  he  will  not  begin  with  us.  Besides,  our  cow 
has  a  calf,  and  that  will  set  us  a  bit  straighter." 

The  four  orphans  for  whom  the  old  woman's  affection 
represented  all  human  guardianship  had  come  to  an  end  of 
their  prunes.  As  their  foster-mother's  attention  was  taken  up 
by  the  officer  with  whom  she  was  chatting,  they  seized  the 
opportunity,  and  banded  themselves  together  in  a  compact 
file,  so  as  to  make  yet  another  assault  upon  the  latch  of  the 
door  that  stood  between  them  and  the  tempting  heap  of  dried 
plums.    They  advanced  to  the  attack,  not  like  French  soldiers. 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  13 

but  as  stealthily  as  Germans,  impelled  by  frank  animal  greedi- 
ness, 

"Oh!  you  little  rogues!  Do  you  want  to  finish  them 
up?" 

The  old  woman  rose,  caught  the  strongest  of  the  four,  ad- 
ministered a  gentle  slap  on  the  back,  and  flung  him  out  of  the 
house.  Not  a  tear  did  he  shed,  but  the  others  remained 
breathless  with  astonishment. 

"  They  give  you  a  lot  of  trouble " 

"  Oh  !  no,  sir,  but  they  can  smell  the  prunes,  the  little  dears. 
If  I  were  to  leave  them  alone  here  for  a  moment,  they  would 
stuff  themselves  with  them." 

"  You  are  very  fond  of  them  ?  " 

The  old  woman  raised  her  head  at  this,  and  looked  at  him 
with  gentle  malice  in  her  eyes. 

"Fond  of  them!  "  she  said.  "I  have  had  to  part  with 
three  of  them  already.  I  only  have  the  care  of  them  until 
they  are  six  years  old,"  she  went  on  with  a  sigh. 

"  But  where  are  your  own  children  ?  " 

"  I  have  lost  them." 

"How  old  are  you  !"  Genestas  asked,  to  efface  the  impres- 
sion made  by  his  last  question. 

"  I  am  thirty-eight  years  old,  sir.  It  will  be  two  years  come 
next  St.  John's  Day  since  my  husband  died." 

She  finished  dressing  the  poor  sickly  mite,  who  seemed  to 
thank  her  by  a  loving  look  in  his  faded  eyes. 

"  What  a  life  of  toil  and  self-denial  !  "  thought  the  cavalry 
officer. 

Beneath  a  roof  worthy  of  the  stable  wherein  Jesus  Christ 
was  born,  the  hardest  duties  of  motherhood  were  fulfilled 
cheerfully  and  without  consciousness  of  merit.  What  hearts 
were  these  that  lay  so  deeply  buried  in  neglect  and  obscurity  ! 
What  wealth  and  what  poverty!  Soldiers,  better  than  other  men, 
can  appreciate  the  element  of  grandeur  to  be  found  in  heroism 
in  sabots,  in  the  Evangel  clad  in  rags.    The  Book  may  be  found 


14  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

elsewhere,  adorned,  embellished,  tricked  out  in  silk  and  satin 
and  brocade,  but  here,  of  a  surety,  dwelt  the  spirit  of  the  Book. 
It  was  impossible  to  doubt  that  heaven  had  some  holy  purpose 
underlying  it  all,  at  the  sight  of  the  woman  who  had  taken  a 
mother's  lot  upon  herself,  as  Jesus  Christ  had  taken  the  form 
of  a  man,  who  gleaned  and  suffered  and  ran  into  debt  for  her 
little  waifs ;  a  woman  who  defrauded  herself  in  her  reckonings, 
and  would  not  own  that  she  was  ruining  herself  that  she  might 
be  a  mother.  One  was  constrained  to  admit,  at  the  sight  of 
her,  that  the  good  upon  earth  have  something  in  common 
with  the  angels  in  heaven;  Commandant  Genestas ^hook  his 
head  as  he  looked  at  her. 

"Is  M.  Benassis  a  clever  doctor  ?  "  he  asked  at  last. 

*'  I  do  not  know,  sir,  but  he  cures  poor  people  for  nothing." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  this  is  a  man  and  no  mistake !  "  he 
went  on,  speaking  to  himself. 

"Oh  !  yes,  sir,  and  a  good  man  too!  There  is  scarcely 
any  one  hereabouts  that  does  not  put  his  name  in  their  prayers, 
morning  and  night !  " 

"That  is  for  you,  mother,"  said  the  soldier,  as  he  gave  her 
several  coins,  "and  that  is  for  the  children,"  he  went  on,  as 
he  added  another  crown.  "  Is  M.  Benassis'  house  still  a  long 
way  off?"  he  asked,  when  he  had  mounted  his  horse. 

"  Oh  !  no,  sir,  a  bare  league  at  most." 

The  commandant  set  out,  fully  persuaded  that  two  leagues 
remained  ahead  of  him.  Yet  after  all  he  soon  caught  a 
glimpse  through  the  trees  of  the  little  town's  first  cluster  of 
houses,  and  then  of  all  the  roofs  that  crowded  about  a  conical 
steeple,  whose  slates  were  secured  to  the  angles  of  the  wooden 
framework  by  sheets  of  tin  that  glittered  in  the  sun.  This 
sort  of  roof,  which  has  a  peculiar  appearance,  denotes  the 
nearness  of  the  borders  of  Savoy,  where  it  is  very  common. 
The  valley  is  wide  at  this  particular  point,  and  a  fair  number 
of  houses  pleasantly  situated,  either  in  the  little  plain  or  along 
the  side  of  the  mountain  stream,  lend  human  interest  to  the 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  15 

well-tilled  spot,  a  stronghold  with  no  apparent  outlet  among 
the  mountains  that  surround  it. 

It  was  noon  when  Genestas  reined  in  his  horse  beneath  an 
avenue  of  elm  trees  half-way  up  the  hillside,  and  only  a  few 
paces  from  the  town,  to  ask  the  group  of  children  who  stood  be- 
fore him  for  M.  Benassis'  house.  At  first  the  children  looked 
at  each  other,  then  they  scrutinized  the  stranger  with  the  expres- 
sion that  they  usually  wear  when  they  set  eyes  upon  anything 
for  the  first  time;  a  different  curiosity  and  a  different  thought 
in  every  little  face.  Then  the  boldest  and  merriest  of  the 
band,  a  little  bright-eyed  urchin,  with  bare,  muddy  feet, 
repeated  his  words  over  again,  in  child  fashion. 

**M.  Benassis'  house,  sir?"  adding,  "I  will  show  you  the 
way  there." 

He  walked  along  in  front  of  the  horse,  prompted  quite  as 
much  by  a  wish  to  gain  a  kind  of  importance  by  being  in  the 
stranger's  company,  as  by  a  child's  love  of  being  useful,  or 
the  imperative  craving  to  be  doing  something,  that  possesses 
mind  and  body  at  his  age.  The  officer  followed  him  for  the 
entire  length  of  the  principal  street  of  the  country  town. 
The  way  was  paved  with  cobble-stones,  and  wound  in  and  out 
among  the  houses,  which  their  owners  had  erected  along  its 
course  in  the  most  arbitrary  fashion.  In  one  place  a  bake- 
hoiise  had  been  built  out  into  the  middle  of  the  roadway ;  in 
another  a  gable  protruded,  partially  obstructing  the  passage, 
and  yet  farther  on  a  mountain  stream  flowed  across  it  in  a 
runnel.  Genestas  noticed  a  fair  number  of  roofs  of  tarred 
shingle,  but  yet  more  of  them  were  thatched ;  a  few  were 
tiled,  and  some  seven  or  eight  (belonging  no  doubt  to  the 
cur6,  the  justice  of  the  peace,  and  some  of  the  wealthier 
townsmen)  were  covered  with  slates.  There  was  a  total 
absence  of  regard  for  appearances  befitting  a  village  at  the 
end  of  the  world,  which  had  nothing  beyond  it,  and  no  con- 
nection with  any  other  place.  The  people  who  lived  in  it 
seemed  to  belong  to  one  family  that  dwelt  beyond  the  limits 


16  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

of  the  bustling  world,  with  which  the  collector  of  taxes  and 
a  few  ties  of  the  very  slenderest  alone  served  to  connect  them. 

When  Genestas  had  gone  a  step  or  two  farther,  he  saw  on 
the  mountain  side  a  broad  road  that  rose  above  the  village. 
Clearly  there  must  be  an  old  town  and  a  new  town  \  and, 
indeed,  when  the  commandant  reached  a  spot  where  he  could 
slacken  the  pace  of  his  horse,  he  could  easily  see  between  the 
houses  some  well-built  dwellings  whose  new  roofs  brightened 
the  old-fashioned  village.  An  avenue  of  trees  rose  above 
these  new  houses,  and  from  among  them  came  the  confused 
sounds  of  several  industries.  He  heard  the  songs  peculiar 
to  busy  toilers,  a  murmur  of  many  workshops,  the  rasping  of 
files,  and  the  sound  of  falling  hammers.  He  saw  the  thin 
lines  of  smoke  from  the  chimneys  of  each  household,  and  the 
more  copious  outpourings  from  the  forges  of  the  van-builder, 
the  blacksmith,  and  the  farrier.  At  length,  at  the  very  end 
of  the  village  towards  which  his  guide  was  taking  him, 
Genestas  beheld  scattered  farms  and  well-tilled  fields  and 
plantations  of  trees  in  thorough  order.  It  might  have  been  a 
little  corner  of  Brie,  so  hidden  away  in  a  great  fold  of  the 
land,  that  at  first  sight  its  existence  would  not  be  suspected 
between  the  little  town  and  the  mountains  that  closed  the 
country  round. 

Presently  the  child  stopped. 

"There  is  the  door  of  his  house,"  he  remarked. 

The  officer  dismounted  and  passed  his  arm  through  the 
bridle.  Then,  thinking  that  the  laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire, 
he  drew  a  few  sous  from  his  waistcoat  pocket,  and  held  them 
out  to  the  child,  who  looked  astonished  at  this,  opened  his 
eyes  very  wide,  and  stayed  on,  without  thanking  him,  to 
watch  what  the  stranger  would  do  next. 

"Civilization  has  not  made  much  headway  hereabouts," 
thought  Genestas;  "the  religion  of  work  is  in  full  force,  and 
begging  has  not  yet  come  thus  far." 

His  guide,  more  from  curiosity  than  from  any  interested 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  17 

motive,  propped  himself  against  the  wall  that  rose  to  the 
height  of  a  man's  elbow.  Upon  this  wall,  which  enclosed  the 
yard  belonging  to  the  house,  there  ran  a  black  wooden  railing 
on  either  side  of  the  square  pillars  of  the  gates.  The  lower 
part  of  the  gates  themselves  was  of  solid  wood  that  had  been 
painted  gray  at  some  period  in  the  past ;  the  upper  part  con- 
sisted of  a  grating  of  yellowish  spear-shaped  bars.  These 
decorations,  which  had  lost  all  their  color,  gradually  rose  on 
either  half  of  the  gates  till  they  reached  the  centre  where 
they  met ;  their  spikes  forming,  when  both  leaves  were  shut, 
an  outline  similar  to  that  of  a  pine-cone.  The  worm-eaten 
gates  themselves,  with  their  patches  of  velvet  lichen,  were 
almost  destroyed  by  the  alternate  action  of  sun  and  rain.  A 
few  aloe  plants  and  some  chance-sown  pellitory  grew  on  the 
tops  of  the  square  pillars  of  the  gates,  which  all  but  concealed 
the  stems  of  a  couple  of  thornless  acacias  that  raised  their 
tufted  spikes,  like  a  pair  of  green  powder-puffs,  in  the  yard. 

The  condition  of  the  gateway  revealed  a  certain  carelessness 
in  its  owner  which  did  not  seem  to  suit  the  officer's  turn  of 
mind.  He  knitted  his  brows  like  a  man  who  is  obliged  to 
relinquish  some  illusion.  We  usually  judge  others  by  our  own 
standard  ;  and  although  we  indulgently  forgive  our  own  short- 
comings in  them,  we  condemn  them  harshly  for  the  lack  of 
our  special  virtues.  If  the  commandant  had  expected  M. 
Benassis  to  be  a  methodical  or  practical  man,  there  were 
unmistakable  indications  of  absolute  indifference  as  to  his 
material  concerns  in  the  state  of  the  gates  of  his  house.  A 
soldier  possessed  of  Genestas'  passion  for  domestic  economy 
could  not  help  at  once  drawing  inferences  as  to  the  life  and 
character  of  its  owner  from  the  gateway  before  him ;  and 
this,  in  spite  of  his  habits  of  circumspection,  he  in  nowise 
failed  to  do.  The  gates  were  left  ajar,  moreover — another 
piece  of  carelessness  1 

Encouraged  by  this  countrified  trust  in  all  comers,  the 
officer  entered  the  yard  without  ceremony,  and  tethered  his 


18  THE   COUNRTY  DOCTOR. 

horse  to  the  bars  of  the  gate.  While  he  was  knotting  the 
bridle,  a  neighing  sound  from  the  stable  caused  both  horse 
and  rider  to  turn  their  eyes  involuntarily  in  that  direction. 
The  door  opened,  and  an  old  servant  put  out  his  head.  He 
wore  a  red  woolen  bonnet,  exactly  like  the  Phrygian  cap  in 
which  Liberty  is  tricked  out,  a  piece  of  head-gear  in  common 
use  in  this  country. 

As  there  was  room  for  several  horses,  this  worthy  indi- 
vidual, after  inquiring  whether  Genestas  had  come  to  see  M. 
Benassis,  offered  the  hospitality  of  the  stable  to  the  newly- 
arrived  steed,  a  very  fine  animal,  at  which  he  looked  with  an 
expression  of  admiring  affection.  The  commandant  followed 
his  horse  to  see  how  things  were  to  go  with  it.  The  stable 
was  clean,  there  was  plenty  of  litter,  and  there  was  the  same 
peculiar  air  of  sleek  content  about  M.  Benassis'  pair  of  horses 
that  distinguishes  the  cure's  horse  from  all  the  rest  of  his 
tribe.  A  maidservant  from  within  the  house  came  out  upon 
the  flight  of  steps  and  waited.  She  appeared  to  be  the  proper 
authority  to  whom  the  stranger's  inquires  were  to  be  addressed, 
although  the  stableman  had  already  told  him  that  M.  Benassis 
was  not  at  home. 

"The  master  has  gone  to  the  flour-mill,"  said  he.  "If 
you  like  to  overtake  him,  you  have  only  to  go  along  the  path 
that  leads  to  the  meadow ;  and  the  mill  is  at  the  end  of  it." 

Genestas  preferred  seeing  the  country  to  waiting  about  in- 
definitely for  Benassis'  return,  so  he  set  out  along  the  way  that 
led  to  the  flour-mill.  When  he  had  gone  beyond  the  irregu- 
lar line  traced  by  the  town  upon  the  hillside,  he  came  in  sight 
of  the  mill  and  the  valley,  and  of  one  of  the  loveliest  land- 
scapes that  he  had  ever  seen. 

The  mountains  bar  the  course  of  the  river,  which  forms  a 
little  lake  at  their  feet,  and  raise  their  crests  above  it,  tier  on 
tier.  Their  many  valleys  are  revealed  by  the  changing  hues 
of  the  light,  or  by  the  more  or  less  clear  outlines  of  the  moun- 
tain ridges  fledged  with  their  dark  forests  of  pines.     The  mill 


M.    BENASSIS    WENT    CVER    THERE. 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  19 

had  not  long  been  built.  It  stood  just  where  the  mountain 
stream  fell  into  the  little  lake.  There  was  all  the  charm 
about  it  peculiar  to  a  lonely  house  surrounded  by  water  and 
hidden  away  beliind  the  heads  of  a  few  trees  that  love  to  grow 
by  the  water-side.  On  the  farther  bank  of  the  river,  at  the 
foot  of  a  mountain  with  a  faint  red  glow  of  sunset  upon  its 
highest  crest,  Genestas  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  dozen  deserted 
cottages.  All  the  windows  and  doors  had  been  taken  away, 
and  sufficiently  large  holes  were  conspicuous  in  the  dilapidated 
roofs,  but  the  surrounding  land  was  laid  out  in  fields  that  were 
highly  cultivated,  and  the  old  garden  spaces  had  been  turned 
into  meadows,  watered  by  a  system  of  irrigation  as  artfully 
contrived  as  that  in  use  in  Limousin.  Unconsciously  the 
commandant  paused  to  look  at  the  ruins  of  the  village  before 
him. 

How  is  it  that  men  can  never  behold  any  ruins,  even  of  the 
humblest  kind,  without  feeling  deeply  stirred  ?  Doubtless  it 
is  because  they  seem  to  be  a  typical  representation  of  evil 
fortune  whose  weight  is  felt  so  differently  by  different  natures. 
The  thought  of  death  is  called  up  by  a  churchyard,  but  a 
deserted  village  puts  us  in  mind  of  the  sorrows  of  life  ;  death 
is  but  one  misfortune  always  foreseen,  but  the  sorrows  of  life 
are  infinite.  Does  not  the  thought  of  the  infinite  underlie 
all  great  melancholy  ? 

The  officer  reached  the  stony  path  by  the  mill-pond  before 
he  could  hit  upon  an  explanation  of  this  deserted  village. 
The  miller's  lad  was  sitting  on  some  sacks  of  corn  near  the 
door  of  the  house.     Genestas  asked  for  M.  Benassis. 

"M.  Benassis  went  over  there,"  said  the  miller,  pointing 
out  one  of  the  ruined  cottages. 

"Has  the  village  been  burned  down?"  asked  the  com- 
mandant. 

"No,  sir." 

"Then  how  did  it  come  to  be  in  this  state?"  inquired 
Genestas. 


20  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"Ah!  how,"  the  miller  answered,  as  he  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  went  indoors ;  "  M.  Benassis  will  tell  you 
that." 

The  officer  went  over  a  rough  sort  of  bridge  built  up  of 
boulders  taken  from  the  torrent  bed,  and  soon  reached  the 
house  that  had  been  pointed  out  to  him.  The  thatched  roof 
of  the  dwelling  was  still  entire ;  it  was  covered  with  moss 
indeed,  but  there  were  no  holes  in  it,  and  the  door  and  its 
fastenings  seemed  to  be  in  good  repair.  Genestas  saw  a  fire 
on  the  hearth  as  he  entered,  an  old  woman  kneeling  in  the 
chimney-corner  before  a  sick  man  seated  in  a  chair,  and 
another  man,  who  was  standing  with  his  face  turned  toward 
the  fireplace.  The  house  consisted  of  a  single  room,  which 
was  lighted  by  a  wretched  window  covered  with  linen  cloth. 
The  floor  was  of  beaten  earth ;  the  chair,  a  table,  and  a 
truckle  bed  comprised  the  whole  of  the  furniture.  The  com- 
mandant had  never  seen  anything  so  poor  and  bare,  not  even 
in  Russia,  where  the  moujik's  huts  are  like  the  dens  of  wild 
beasts.  Nothing  within  it  spoke  of  ordinary  life ;  there  were 
not  even  the  simplest  appliances  for  cooking  food  of  the  com- 
monest description.  It  might  have  been  a  dog  kennel  with- 
out a  drinking-pan.  But  for  the  truckle  bed,  a  smock-frock 
hanging  from  a  nail,  and  some  sabots  filled  with  straw,  which 
composed  the  invalid's  entire  wardrobe,  this  cottage  would 
have  looked  as  empty  as  the  other.  The  aged  peasant  woman 
upon  her  knees  was  devoting  all  her  attention  to  keeping  the 
sufferer's  feet  in  a  tub  filled  with  a  brown  liquid.  Hearing 
a  footstep  and  the  clank  of  spurs,  which  sounded  strangely  in 
ears  accustomed  to  the  plodding  pace  of  country  folk,  the 
man  turned  towards  Genestas.  A  sort  of  surprise,  in  which 
the  old  woman  shared,  was  visible  in  his  face. 

"There  is  no  need  to  ask  if  you  are  M.  Benassis,"  said 
the  soldier.  "You  will  pardon  me,  sir,  if,  as  a  stranger 
impatient  to  see  you,  I  have  come  to  seek  you  on  your 
field  of  battle,  instead  of  awaiting  you  at  your  house.     Pray 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  21 

do  not  disturb  yourself;  go  on  with  what  you  are  doing. 
When  it  is  over,  I  will  tell  you  the   purpose  of  my  visit." 

Genestas  half-seated  himself  upon  the  edge  of  the  table, 
and  remained  silent.  The  firelight  shone  more  brightly  in 
the  room  than  the  faint  rays  of  the  sun,  for  the  mountain 
crests  intercepted  them,  so  that  they  seldom  reached  this 
corner  of  the  valley.  A  few  branches  of  resinous  pinewood 
made  a  bright  blaze,  and  it  was  by  the  light  of  this  fire 
that  the  soldier  saw  the  face  of  the  man  towards  whom  he 
was  drawn  by  a  secret  motive,  by  a  wish  to  seek  him  out, 
to  study  and  to  know  him  thoroughly  well.  M.  Benassis, 
the  local  doctor,  heard  Genestas  with  indifference,  and  with 
folded  arms  he  returned  his  bow,  and  went  back  to  his 
patient,  quite  unaware  that  he  was  being  subjected  to  a 
scrutiny  as  earnest  as  that  which  the  soldier  turned  upon 
him. 

Benassis  was  a  man  of  ordinary  height,  broad-shouldered 
and  deep-chested.  A  capacious  green  overcoat,  buttoned 
up  to  the  chin,  prevented  the  officer  from  observing  any 
characteristic  details  of  his  personal  appearance ;  but  his 
dark  and  motionless  figure  served  as  a  strong  relief  to  his 
face,  which  caught  the  bright  light  of  the  blazing  fire.  The 
face  was  not  unlike  that  of  a  satyr  ;  there  was  the  same 
slightly  protruding  forehead,  full,  in  this  case,  of  promi- 
nences, all  more  or  less  denoting  character ;  the  same  turned- 
up  nose,  with  a  sprightly  cleavage  at  the  tip;  the  same  high 
cheek-bones.  The  lines  of  the  mouth  were  crooked  ;  the  lips, 
thick  and  red.  The  chin  turned  sharply  upwards.  There 
was  an  alert,  animated  look  in  the  brown  eyes,  to  which  their 
pearly  whites  gave  great  brightness,  and  which  expressed 
passions  now  subdued.  His  iron-gray  hair,  the  deep  wrinkles 
in  his  face,  the  bushy  eyebrows  that  had  grown  white  already, 
the  veins  on  his  protuberant  nose,  the  tanned  face  covered 
with  red  blotches,  everything  about  him,  in  short,  indicated  a 
man  of  fifty  and  the  hard  \vprk  of  his  profession.     The  officer 


22  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

could  come  to  no  conclusion  as  to  the  capacity  of  the  head, 
which  was  covered  by  a  close  cap ;  but  hidden  though  it  was, 
it  seemed  to  him  to  be  one  of  the  square-shaped  kind  that 
gave  rise  to  the  expression  "square-headed."  Genestas  was 
accustomed  to  read  the  indications  that  mark  the  features  of 
men  destined  to  do  great  things,  since  he  had  been  brought 
into  close  relations  with  the  energetic  natures  sought  out  by 
Napoleon  ;  so  he  suspected  that  there  must  be  some  mystery 
in  this  life  of  obscurity,  and  said  to  himself  as  he  looked  at 
the  remarkable  face  before  him — 

'*  How  comes  it  that  he  is  still  a  country  doctor  ?  " 
When  he  had  made  a  careful  study  of  this  countenance, 
that,  in  spite  of  its  resemblance  to  other  human  faces,  re- 
vealed an  inner  life  nowise  in  harmony  with  a  common-place 
exterior,  he  could  not  help  sharing  the  doctor's  interest  in  his 
patient ;  and  the  sight  of  that  patient  completely  changed  the 
current  of  his  thoughts. 

Much  as  the  old  cavalry  officer  had  seen  in  the  course  of  his 
soldier's  career,  he  felt  a  thrill  of  surprise  and  horror  at  the 
sight  of  a  human  face  which  could  never  have  been  lighted  up 
with  thought — a  livid  face  in  which  a  look  of  dumb  suffering 
showed  so  plainly — the  same  look  that  is  sometimes  worn  by 
a  child  too  young  to  speak  and  too  weak  to  cry  any  longer ; 
in  short,  it  was  the  wholly  animal  face  of  an  old  dying  cretin. 
The  cretin  was  the  one  variety  of  the  human  species  with 
which  the  commandant  had  not  yet  come  in  contact.  At  the 
sight  of  the  deep,  circular  folds  of  skin  on  the  forehead,  the 
sodden,  fish-like  eyes,  and  the  head,  with  its  short,  coarse, 
scantily-growing  hair — a  head  utterly  divested  of  all  the  facul- 
ties of  the  senses — who  would  not  have  experienced,  as  Gen- 
estas did,  an  instinctive  feeling  of  repulsion  for  a  being  that 
had  neither  the  physical  beauty  of  an  animal  nor  the  mental 
endowments  of  man,  who  was  possessed  of  neither  instinct 
nor  reason,  and  who  had  never  heard  nor  spoken  any  kind  of 
articulate  speech  ?     It  seemed  difficult  to  expend  any  regrets 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  23 

over  the  poor  wretch  now  visibly  drawing  towards  the  very 
end  of  an  existence  which  had  not  been  life  in  any  sense  of 
the  word  ;  yet  the  old  woman  watched  him  with  touching 
anxiety,  and  was  rubbing  his  legs  where  the  hot  water  did  not 
reach  them  with  as  much  tenderness  as  if  he  had  been  her 
husband.  Benassis  himself,  after  a  close  scrutiny  of  the  dull 
eyes  and  corpse-like  face,  gently  took  the  cretin's  hand  and 
felt  his  pulse. 

"The  bath  is  doing  no  good,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head  ; 
**  let  us  put  him  to  bed  again." 

He  lifted  the  inert  mass  himself,  and  carried  him  across  to 
the  truckle  bed,  from  whence,  no  doubt,  he  had  just  taken 
him.  Carefully  he  laid  him  at  full  length,  and  straightened 
the  limbs  that  were  growing  cold  already,  putting  the  head 
and  hand  in  position,  with  all  the  heed  that  a  mother  could 
bestow  upon  her  child. 

"  It  is  all  over,  death  is  very  near,"  added  Benassis,  who 
remained  standing  by  the  bedside. 

The  old  woman  gazed  at  the  dying  form,  with  her  hands  on 
her  hips.  A  few  tears  stole  down  her  cheeks.  Genestas  re- 
mained silent.  He  was  unable  to  explain  to  himself  how  it 
was  that  the  death  of  a  being  that  concerned  him  so  little 
should  affect  him  so  much.  Unconsciously  he  shared  the 
feeling  of  boundless  pity  that  these  hapless  creatures  excite 
among  the  dwellers  in  the  sunless  valleys  wherein  nature  has 
placed  them.  This  sentiment  has  degenerated  into  a  kind  of 
religious  superstition  in  families  to  which  cretins  belong ;  but 
does  it  not  spring  from  the  most  beautiful  of  Christian  virtues 
— from  charity,  and  from  a  belief  in  a  reward  hereafter,  that 
most  effectual  support  of  our  social  system,  and  the  one 
thought  that  enables  us  to  endure  our  miseries  ?  The  hope 
of  inheriting  eternal  bliss  helps  the  relations  of  these  unhappy 
creatures  and  all  others  round  about  them  to  exert  on  a  large 
scale,  and  with  sublime  devotion,  a  mother's  ceaseless  pro- 
tecting care  over  an  apathetic  creature  who  does  not  under- 


24  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

Stand  it  in  the  first  instance,  and  who  in  a  little  while  forgets 
it  all.  Wonderful  power  of  religion  !  that  has  brought  a  blind 
beneficence  to  the  aid  of  an  equally  blind  misery.  Wherever 
cretins  exist,  there  is  a  popular  belief  that  the  presence  of  one 
of  these  creatures  brings  luck  to  a  family — a  su])erstition  that 
serves  to  sweeten  lives  which,  in  the  midst  of  a  town  popu- 
lation, would  be  condemned  by  a  mistaken  philanthropy  to 
submit  to  the  harsh  discipline  of  an  asylum.  In  the  higher 
end  of  the  valley  of  the  Isere,  where  cretins  are  very  nu- 
merous, they  lead  an  out-of-door  life  with  the  cattle,  which 
they  are  taught  to  herd.  There,  at  any  rate,  they  are  at  large, 
and  receive  the  reverence  due  to  misfortune. 

A  moment  later  the  village  bell  clinked  at  slow  regular  in- 
tervals, to  acquaint  the  flock  with  the  death  of  one  of  their 
number.  In  the  sound  that  reached  the  cottage  but  faintly 
across  the  intervening  space  there  was  a  thought  of  religion 
which  seemed  to  fill  it  with  a  melancholy  peace.  The  tread 
of  many  feet  echoed  up  the  road,  giving  notice  of  an  ap- 
proaching crowd  of  people — a  crowd  that  uttered  not  a  word. 
Then  suddenly  the  chanting  of  the  Church  broke  the  stillness, 
calling  up  the  confused  thoughts  that  take  possession  of  the 
most  sceptical  minds,  and  compel  them  to  yield  to  the  influ- 
ence of  the  touching  harmonies  of  the  human  voice.  The 
Church  was  coming  to  the  aid  of  a  creature  that  knew  her 
not.  The  cure  appeared,  preceded  by  a  choir-boy,  who  bore 
the  crucifix,  and  followed  by  the  sacristan  carrying  the  vase 
of  holy  water,  and  by  some  fifty  women,  old  men,  and  chil- 
dren, who  had  all  come  to  add  their  prayers  to  those  of  the 
Church.  The  doctor  and  the  soldier  looked  at  each  other, 
and  silently  withdrew  to  a  corner  to  make  room  for  the  kneel- 
ing crowd  within  and  without  the  cottage.  During  the  con- 
soling ceremony  of  the  Viaticum,  celebrated  for  one  who  had 
never  sinned,  but  to  whom  the  Church  on  earth  was  bidding 
a  last  farewell,  there  were  signs  of  real  sorrow  on  most  of  the 
rough  faces  of  the  gathering,  and  tears  flowed  over  rugged 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE   AND    THE  MAN.  25 

cheeks  that  sun  and  wind  and  labor  in  the  fields  had  tanned 
and  wrinkled.  The  sentiment  of  voluntary  kinship  was  easy 
to  explain.  There  was  not  one  in  the  place  who  had  not 
pitied  the  unhappy  creature,  not  one  who  would  not  have 
given  him  his  daily  bread.  Had  he  not  met  with  a  father's 
care  from  every  child,  and  found  a  mother  in  the  merriest 
little  girl  ? 

**  He  is  dead,"  said  the  cure. 

The  words  struck  his  hearers  with  the  most  unfeigned  dis- 
may. The  tall  candles  were  lighted,  and  several  people  un- 
dertook to  watch  with  the  dead  that  night.  Benassis  and  the 
soldier  went  out.  A  group  of  peasants  in  the  doorway 
Stopped  the  doctor  to  say — 

"  Ah  !  if  you  have  not  saved  his  life,  sir,  it  was  doubtless 
because  God  wished  to  take  him  to  Himself." 

"I  did  my  best,  children,"  the  doctor  answered. 

When  they  had  come  a  few  paces  from  the  deserted  village, 
whose  last  inhabitant  had  just  died,  the  doctor  spoke  to 
Genestas. 

"You  would  not  believe,  sir,  what  real  solace  is  contained 
for  me  in  what  those  peasants  have  jus^.;aid.  Ten  years  ago 
I  was  very  nearly  stoned  to  death  in  this  village.  It  is  empty 
to-day,  but  thirty  families  lived  in  it  then." 

Genestas'  face  and  gesture  so  plainly  expressed  an  inquiry, 
that,  as  they  went  along,  the  doctor  told  him  the  story 
promised  by  this  beginning, 

"When  I  first  settled  here,  sir,  I  found  a  dozen  cretins  in 
this  part  of  the  canton,"  and  the  doctor  turned  round  to 
point  out  the  ruined  cottages  for  the  officer's  benefit,  "All 
the  favorable  conditions  for  spreading  the  hideous  disease  are 
there  :  the  air  is  stagnant,  the  hamlet  lies  in  the  valley  bottom, 
close  beside  a  torrent  supplied  with  water  by  the  melted 
snows,  and  the  sunlight  only  falls  on  the  mountain-top,  so 
that  the  valley  itself  gets  no  good  of  the  sun.  Marriages 
among  these  unfortunate  creatures  are  not  forbidden  by  law, 


26  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

and  in  this  district  they  are  protected  by  superstitious  notions, 
of  whose  power  I  had  no  conception — superstitions  which  I 
blamed  at  first,  and  afterwards  came  to  admire.  So  cretinism 
was  in  a  fair  way  to  spread  all  over  the  valley  from  this  spot. 
Was  it  not  doing  the  country  a  great  service  to  put  a  stop  to 
this  mental  and  physical  contagion  ?  But  imperatively  as  the 
salutary  changes  were  required,  they  might  cost  the  life  of 
any  man  who  endeavored  to  bring  them  about.  Here,  as  in 
other  social  spheres,  if  any  good  is  to  be  done,  we  come  into 
collision  not  merely  with  vested  interests,  but  with  something 
far  more  dangerous  to  meddle  with — religious  ideas  crystallized 
into  superstitions,  the  most  permanent  form  taken  by  human 
thought.     I  feared  nothing. 

*'  In  the  first  place,  I  sought  for  the  position  of  mayor  in 
the  canton,  and  in  this  I  succeeded.  Then,  after  obtaining 
a  verbal  sanction  from  the  prefect,  and  by  paying  down  the 
money,  I  had  several  of  these  unfortunate  creatures  trans- 
ported over  the  Aiguebelle,  in  Savoy,  by  night.  There  are  a 
great  many  of  them  there,  and  they  were  certain  to  be  very 
kindly  treated.  When  this  act  of  humanity  came  to  be 
known,  the  whole  countryside  looked  upon  me  as  a  monster. 
The  cur6  preached  against  me.  In  spite  of  all  the  pains  I 
took  to  explain  to  all  the  shrewder  heads  of  the  little  place  the 
immense  importance  of  being  rid  of  the  idiots,  and  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  I  gave  my  services  gratuitously  to  the  sick 
people  of  the  district,  a  shot  was  fired  at  me  from  the  corner 
of  a  wood. 

"I  went  to  the  Bishop  of  Grenoble  and  asked  him  to 
change  the  cure.  Monseigneur  was  good  enough  to  allow  me 
to  choose  a  priest  who  would  share  in  my  labors,  and  it  was 
my  happy  fortune  to  meet  with  one  of  those  rare  natures  that 
seemed  to  have  dropped  down  from  heaven.  Then  I  went 
on  with  my  enterprise.  After  preparing  people's  minds,  I 
made  another  transportation  by  night,  and  six  more  cretins 
were  taken  away.     In  this  second  attempt  I  had  the  support 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  'iSl 

of  several  people  to  whom  I  had  rendered  some  service,  and  I 
was  backed  by  the  members  of  the  Communal  Council,  for  I 
had  appealed  to  their  parsimonious  instincts,  showing  them 
how  much  it  cost  to  support  the  poor  wretches,  and  pointing 
out  how  largely  they  might  gain  by  converting  their  plots  of 
ground  (to  which  the  idiots  had  no  proper  title)  into  allot- 
ments which  were  needed  in  the  township. 

**  All  the  rich  were  on  my  side ;  but  the  poor,  the  old 
women,  the  children,  and  a  few  pig-headed  people  were  vio- 
lently opposed  to  me.  Unluckily  it  so  fell  out  that  my  last 
removal  had  not  been  completely  carried  out.  The  cretin 
whom  you  had  just  seen,  not  having  returned  to  his  house, 
had  not  been  taken  away,  so  that  the  next  morning  he 
was  the  sole  remaining  example  of  his  species  in  the  village. 
There  were  several  families  still  living  there ;  but  though  they 
were  little  better  than  idiots,  they  were,  at  any  rate,  free  from 
the  taint  of  cretinism.  I  determined  to  go  through  with  my 
work,  and  came  officially  in  open  day  to  take  the  luckless 
creature  from  his  dwelling.  I  had  no  sooner  left  my  house 
than  my  intention  got  abroad.  The  cretin's  friends  were 
there  before  me,  and  in  front  of  his  hovel  I  found  a  crowd  of 
women  and  children  and  old  people,  who  hailed  my  arrival 
with  insults  accompanied  by  a  shower  of  stones. 

"In  the  midst  of  the  uproar  I  should  perhaps  have  fallen 
a  victim  to  the  frenzy  that  possesses  a  crowd  excited  by  its 
own  outcries  and  stirred  up  by  one  common  feeling,  but  the 
cretin  saved  ray  life  !  The  poor  creature  came  out  of  his  hut, 
and  raised  the  duckling  sound  of  his  voice.  He  seemed  to  be 
an  absolute  ruler  over  the  fanatical  mob,  for  the  sight  of  him 
put  a  sudden  stop  to  the  clamor.  It  occurred  to  me  that  I  might 
arrange  a  compromise,  and  thanks  to  the  quiet  so  opportunely 
restored,  I  was  able  to  propose  and  explain  it.  Of  course, 
those  who  approved  of  my  schemes  would  not  dare  to  second 
me  in  this  emergency,  their  support,  was  sure  to  be  of  a  purely 
passive  Itind,   while  these  superstitious  folk  would  exert  the 


28  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

most  active  vigilance  to  keep  their  last  idol  among  them ;  it 
was  impossible,  it  seemed  to  me,  to  take  him  away  from  them. 
So  I  promised  to  leave  the  cretin  in  peace  in  his  dwelling, 
with  the  understanding  that  he  should  live  quite  by  himself, 
and  that  the  remaining  families  in  the  village  should  cross  the 
stream  and  come  to  live  in  the  town,  in  some  new  houses 
which  I  myself  undertook  to  build,  adding  to  each  house  a 
piece  of  ground  for  which  the  commune  was  to  repay  me 
later  on. 

"Well,  my  dear  sir,  it  took  me  fully  six  months  to  over- 
come their  objection  to  this  bargain,  however  much  it  may 
have  been  to  the  advantage  of  the  village  families.  The 
affection  which  they  have  for  their  wretched  hovels  in  country 
districts  is  something  quite  unexplainable.  No  matter  how 
unwholesome  his  hovel  may  be,  a  peasant  clings  far  more  to  it 
than  a  banker  does  to  his  mansion.  The  reason  of  it?  That 
I  do  not  know.  Perhaps  thoughts  and  feelings  are  strongest 
in  those  who  have  but  few  of  them,  simply  because  they  have 
but  few.  Perhaps  material  things  count  for  much  in  the  lives 
of  those  who  live  so  little  in  thought ;  certain  it  is  that  the 
less  they  have,  the  dearer  their  possessions  are  to  them.  Per- 
haps, too,  it  is  with  the  peasant  as  with  the  prisoner — he  does 
not  squander  the  powers  of  his  soul,  he  centres  them  all  upon 
a  single  idea,  and  this  is  how  his  feelings  come  to  be  so  ex- 
ceedingly strong.  Pardon  these  reflections  on  the  part  of  a 
man  who  seldom  exchanges  ideas  with  any  one.  But,  indeed, 
you  must  not  suppose,  sir,  that  I  am  much  taken  up  with  these 
far-fetched  considerations.  We  all  have  to  be  active  and 
practical  here. 

"  Alas  !  the  fewer  ideas  these  poor  folk  have  in  their  heads, 
the  harder  it  is  to  make  them  see  where  their  real  interests  lie. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  give  my  whole  attention  to 
every  trifling  detail  of  my  enterprise.  One  and  all  made  me 
the  same  answer,  one  of  those  sayings,  filled  with  homely 
sense,  to  which  there  is  no  possible  reply,  *  But  your  houses 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  29 

are  not  yet  built,  sir!  '  they  used  to  say.  'Very  good,'  said 
I,  *  promise  me  that  as  soon  as  they  are  finished  you  will  come 
and  live  in  them.' 

"Luckily,  sir,  I  obtained  a  decision  to  the  effect  that  the 
whole  of  the  mountain  side  above  the  now  deserted  village  was 
the  property  of  the  township.  The  sum  of  money  brought  in 
by  the  woods  on  the  higher  slopes  paid  for  the  building  of  the 
new  houses  and  for  the  land  on  which  they  stood.  They 
were  built  forthwith  ;  and  when  once  one  of  my  refractory 
families  was  fairly  settled  in,  the  rest  of  them  were  not  slow 
to  follow.  The  benefits  of  the  change  were  so  evident  that 
even  the  most  bigoted  believer  in  the  village,  which  you 
might  call  soulless  as  well  as  sunless,  could  not  but  appreciate 
them.  The  final  decision  in  this  matter,  which  gave  some 
property  to  the  commune,  in  the  possession  of  which  we 
were  confirmed  by  the  Council  of  State,  made  me  a  person 
of  great  importance  in  the  canton.  But  what  a  lot  of  worry 
there  was  over  it !  "  the  doctor  remarked,  stopping  short,  and 
raising  a  hand,  which  he  let  fall  again — a  gesture  that  spoke 
volumes.  "  No  one  knows,  as  I  do,  the  distance  between  the 
town  and  the  Prefecture — whence  nothing  comes  out — and 
from  the  Prefecture  to  the  Council  of  State — where  nothing 
can  be  got  in. 

"Well,  after  all,"  he  resumed,  "peace  be  to  the  powers 
of  this  world  !  They  yielded  to  my  importunities,  and  that 
is  saying  a  great  deal.  If  you  only  knew  the  good  that 
came  of  a  carelessly  scrawled  signature  !  Why,  sir,  two  years 
after  I  had  taken  those  momentous  trifles  in  hand,  and  had 
carried  the  matter  through  to  the  end,  every  poor  family  in 
the  commune  had  two  cows  at  least,  which  they  pastured  on 
the  mountain  side,  where  (without  waiting  this  time  for  an 
authorization  from  the  Council  of  State)  I  had  established  a 
system  of  irrigation  by  means  of  cross  trenches,  like  those  in 
Switzerland,  Auvergne,  and  Limousin.  Much  to  their  aston- 
ishment, the  townspeople  saw  some  capital  meadows  springing 


30  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

up  under  their  eyes,  and  thanks  to  the  improvement  in  the 
pasturage,  the  yield  of  milk  was  very  much  larger.  The 
results  of  this  triumph  were  great  indeed.  Every  one  followed 
the  example  set  by  my  system  of  irrigation ;  cattle  were  mul- 
tiplied ;  the  area  of  meadow  land  and  every  kind  of  out-turn 
increased.  I  had  nothing  to  fear  after  that.  I  could  continue 
my  efforts  to  improve  this,  as  yet,  untilled  corner  of  the  earth ; 
and  to  civilize  those  who  dwelt  in  it,  whose  minds  had  hitherto 
lain  dormant. 

"  Well,  sir,  folk  like  us,  who  live  out  of  the  world,  are  very 
talkative.  If  you  ask  us  a  question,  there  is  no  knowing 
where  the  answer  will  come  to  an  end ;  but  to  cut  it  short — 
there  were  about  seven  hundred  souls  in  the  valley  when  I 
came  to  it,  and  now  the  population  numbers  some  two  thousand. 
I  had  gained  the  good  opinion  of  every  one  in  that  matter 
of  the  last  cretin  ;  and  when  I  had  constantly  shown  that  I 
could  rule  both  mildly  and  firmly,  I  became  a  local  oracle. 
I  did  everything  that  I  could  to  win  their  confidence ;  I  did 
not  ask  for  it,  nor  did  I  appear  to  seek  it ;  but  I  tried  to 
inspire  every  one  with  the  deepest  respect  for  my  character, 
by  the  scrupulous  way  in  which  I  always  fulfilled  my  engage- 
ments, even  when  they  were  of  the  most  trifling  kind.  When 
I  had  pledged  myself  to  the  care  of  the  poor  creature  whose 
death  you  have  just  witnessed,  I  looked  after  him  much  more 
effectually  than  any  of  his  previous  guardians  had  done.  He 
has  been  fed  and  cared  for  as  the  adopted  child  of  the  com- 
mune. After  a  time  the  dwellers  in  the  valley  ended  by  under- 
standing the  service  which  I  had  done  them  in  spite  of  them- 
selves, but,  for  all  that,  they  still  cherish  some  traces  of  tliat 
old  superstition  of  theirs.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  blame  them 
for  it;  has  not  their  cult  of  the  cretin  often  furnished  me 
with  an  argument  when  I  have  tried  to  induce  those  who  had 
possession  of  their  faculties  to  help  the  unfortunate  ?  But 
here  we  are,"  said  Benassis,  when  after  a  moment's  pause  he 
saw  the  roof  of  his  own  house. 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AXD    THE  MAiV.  31 

Far  from  expecting  the  slightest  expression  of  praise  or  of 
thanks  from  his  listener,  it  appeared  from  his  way  of  telling 
the  story  of  this  episode  in  his  administrative  career  that  he 
had  been  moved  by  an  unconscious  desire  to  pour  out  the 
thoughts  that  filled  his  mind,  after  the  manner  of  folk  that 
live  very  retired  lives. 

"  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  putting  my  horse  in  your 
stable,  sir,"  said  the  commandant,  "  for  which  in  your  good- 
ness you  will  perhaps  pardon  me  when  you  learn  the  object  of 
my  journey  hither." 

"Ah!  yes,  what  is  it?"  asked  Benassis,  appearing  to 
shake  off  his  preoccupied  mood,  and  to  recollect  that  his 
companion  was  a  stranger  to  him.  The  frankness  and  unre- 
serve of  his  nature  had  led  him  to  accept  Genestas  as  an 
acquaintance. 

"I  have  heard  of  the  almost  miraculous  recovery  of  M. 
Gravier  of  Grenoble,  whom  you  received  into  your  house,"  was 
the  soldier's  answer.  "I  have  come  to  you,  hoping  that  you 
will  give  a  like  attention  to  my  case,  although  I  have  not  a 
similar  claim  to  your  benevolence;  and  yet  I  am  possibly  not 
undeserving  of  it.  I  am  an  old  soldier,  and  wounds  of  long 
standing  give  me  no  peace.  It  will  take  you  at  least  a  week  to 
study  my  conditions,  for  the  pain  only  comes  back  at  inter- 
vals, and " 

*'  Very  good,  sir,"  Benassis  broke  in;  "  M.  Gravier's  room 
is  in  readiness.     Come  in." 

They  went  into  the  house,  the  doctor  flinging  open  the 
door  with  an  eagerness  that  Genestas  attributed  to  his  pleasure 
at  receiving  a  boarder. 

"Jacquotte!"  Benassis  called  out.  "  This  gentleman  will 
dine  with  us." 

"  But  would  it  not  be  as  well  for  us  to  settle  about  the  pay- 
ment?" 

"Payment  for  what?"  inquired  the  doctor,  looking  at 
Genestas  with  some  surprise. 


32  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"  For  my  board.  You  cannot  keep  me,  and  my  horse  as 
well,  without " 

"  If  you  are  wealthy,  you  will  repay  me  amply,"  Benassis 
replied;   "and  if  you  are  not,  I  will  take  nothing  whatever." 

"  Nothing  whatever  seems  to  me  to  be  too  dear,"  said 
Genestas.  "  But,  rich  or  poor,  will  ten  francs  a  day  (not  in- 
cluding your  professional  services)  be  acceptable  to  you?" 

"  Nothing  could  be  less  acceptable  to  me  than  payment  for 
the  pleasure  of  entertaining  a  visitor,"  the  doctor  answered, 
knitting  his  brows;  "and  as  to  my  advice,  you  shall  have  it 
if  I  like  you,  and  not  unless.  Rich  people  shall  not  have  my 
time  by  paying  for  it ;  it  belongs  exclusively  to  the  folk  here 
in  the  valley.  I  do  not  care  about  fame  or  fortune,  and  I 
look  for  neither  praise  nor  gratitude  from  my  patients.  Any 
money  which  you  may  pay  me  will  go  to  the  druggists  in 
Grenoble,  to  pay  for  the  medicine  required  by  the  poor  of  the 
neighborhood." 

Any  one  who  had  heard  the  words  flung  out,  abruptly,  it  is 
true,  but  without  a  trace  of  bitterness  in  them,  would  have 
said  to  himself  with  Genestas,  "  Here  is  a  man  made  of  good 
human  clay." 

"Well,  then,  I  will  pay  you  ten  francs  a  day,  sir,"  the 
soldier  answered,  returning  to  the  charge  with  wonted  per- 
tinacity, "  and  you  will  do  as  you  choose  after  that.  We 
shall  understand  each  other  better  now  that  the  question  is 
settled,"  he  added,  grasping  the  doctor's  hand  with  eager 
cordiality.  "In  spite  of  my  ten  francs,  you  shall  see  that  I 
am  by  no  means  a  Tartar." 

After  this  passage  of  arms,  in  which  Benassis  showed  not 
the  slightest  sign  of  a  wish  to  appear  generous  or  to  pose  as  a 
philanthropist,  the  supposed  invalid  entered  his  doctor's 
house.  Everything  within  it  was  in  keeping  with  the  ruinous 
state  of  the  gateway,  and  with  the  clothing  worn  by  its 
owner.  There  was  an  utter  disregard  for  everything  not 
essentially  useful,  which   was   visible   even   in   the   smallest 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  33 

trifles.  Benassis  took  Genestas  through  the  kitchen,  that 
being  the  shortest  way  to  the  dining-room. 

Had  the  said  kitchen  belonged  to  an  inn,  it  could  not  have 
been  more  smoke-begrimed  ;  and  if  there  was  a  sufficiency  of 
cooking  pots  within  its  precincts,  this  lavish  supply  was 
Jacquotte's  doing — Jacquotte,  who  had  formerly  been  the 
cure's  housekeeper — Jacquotte,  who  always  said  "we"  and 
who  ruled  supreme  over  the  doctor's  household.  If,  for 
instance,  there  was  a  brightly  polished  warming-pan  above 
the  mantle-shelf,  it  probably  hung  there  because  Jacquotte 
liked  to  sleep  warm  of  a  winter  night,  which  led  her  inci- 
dentally to  warm  her  master's  sheets.  He  never  took  a 
thought  about  anything,  so  she  was  wont  to  say. 

It  was  on  account  of  a  defect,  which  any  one  else  would 
have  found  intolerable,  that  Benassis  had  taken  her  into  his 
service.  Jacquotte  had  a  mind  to  rule  the  house,  and  a 
woman  who  would  rule  his  house  was  the  very  person  that  the 
doctor  wanted.  So  Jacquotte  bought  and  sold,  made  altera- 
tions about  the  place,  set  up  and  took  down,  arranged  and 
disarranged  everything  at  her  own  sweet  will  ;  her  master  had 
never  raised  a  murmur.  Over  the  yard,  the  stable,  the  man- 
servant and  the  kitchen,  in  fact,  over  the  whole  house  and 
garden  and  its  master,  Jacquotte's  sway  was  absolute.  She 
looked  out  fresh  linen,  saw  to  the  washing,  and  laid  in  pro- 
visions without  consulting  anybody.  She  decided  everything 
that  went  on  in  the  house,  and  the  date  when  the  pigs  were  to 
be  killed.  She  scolded  the  gardener,  decreed  the  menu  at 
breakfast  and  dinner,  and  went  from  cellar  to  garret,  and 
from  garret  to  cellar,  setting  everything  to  rights  according  to 
her  notions,  without  a  word  of  opposition  of  any  sort  or 
description.  Benassis  had  made  but  two  stipulations — he 
wished  to  dine  at  six  o'clock,  and  that  the  household  expenses 
should  not  exceed  a  certain  fixed  sum  every  month. 

A  woman  whom  every  one  obeys  in  this  way  is  always  sing- 
ing, so  Jacquotte  laughed  and  warbled  on  the  staircase ;  she 
3 


34  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

was  always  humming  something  when  she  was  not  singing, 
and  singing  when  she  was  not  humming.  Jacquotte  had  a 
natural  liking  for  cleanliness,  so  she  kept  the  house  neat  and 
clean.  If  her  tastes  had  been  different,  it  would  have  been  a 
sad  thing  for  M.  Benassis  (so  she  was  wont  to  say),  for  the 
poor  man  was  so  little  particular  that  you  might  feed  him  on 
cabbage  for  partridges,  and  he  would  not  find  it  out ;  and  if 
it  were  not  for  her,  he  would  very  often  wear  the  same  shirt 
for  a  week  on  end.  Jacquotte,  however,  was  an  indefatigable 
folder  of  linen,  a  born  rubber  and  polisher  of  furniture,  and 
a  passionate  lover  of  a  perfectly  religious  and  ceremonial 
cleanliness  of  the  most  scrupulous,  the  most  radiant,  and  most 
fragrant  kind.  A  sworn  foe  to  dust,  she  swept  and  scoured 
and  washed  without  ceasing. 

The  condition  of  the  gateway  caused  her  acute  distress. 
On  the  first  day  of  every  month  for  the  past  ten  years  she 
had  extorted  from  her  master  a  promise  that  he  would  replace 
the  gate  with  a  new  one,  that  the  walls  of  the  house  should 
be  lime-washed,  and  that  everything  should  be  made  quite 
straight  and  proper  about  the  place ;  but  so  far,  the  master 
had  not  kept  his  word.  So  it  happened  that  whenever  she 
fell  to  lamenting  over  Benassis'  deeply-rooted  carelessness 
about  things,  she  nearly  always  ended  solemnly  in  these  words, 
with  which  all  her  praises  of  her  master  usually  terminated — 

"  You  cannot  say  that  he  is  a  fool,  because  he  works  such 
miracles,  as  you  may  say,  in  the  place ;  but,  all  the  same,  he 
IS  a  fool  at  times,  such  a  fool  that  you  have  to  do  everything 
for  him  as  if  he  were  a  child." 

Jacquotte  loved  the  house  as  if  it  had  belonged  to  her ;  and 
when  she  had  lived  in  it  for  twenty-two  years,  had  she  not 
some  grounds  for  deluding  herself  on  that  head  ?  After  the 
cure's  death  the  house  had  been  for  sale  ;  and  Benassis,  who 
had  only  just  come  into  the  country,  had  bought  it  as  it  stood, 
with  the  walls  about  it  and  the  ground  belonging  to  it,  together 
with  the  plate,  wine,  and  furniture,  the  old  sun-dial,  the  poultry 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE   AND    THE  MAN.  35 

the  horse,  and  the  womanservant.  Jacquotte  was  the  very 
pattern  of  a  working  housekeeper,  with  her  clumsy  figure,  and 
her  bodice,  always  of  the  same  dark  brown  print  with  large 
red  spots  on  it,  which  fitted  her  so  tightly  that  it  looked  as  if 
the  material  must  give  way  if  she  moved  at  all.  Her  color- 
less face,  with  its  double  chin,  looked  out  from  under  a  round 
plaited  cap,  which  made  her  look  paler  than  she  really  was. 
She  talked  incessantly,  and  always  in  a  loud  voice — this  short, 
active  woman,  with  the  plump,  busy  hands.  Indeed,  if 
Jacquotte  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  took  a  corner  of  her 
apron  so  as  to  turn  it  up  in  a  triangle,  it  meant  that  a  lengthy 
expostulation  was  about  to  be  delivered  for  the  benefit  of 
master  or  man.  Jacquotte  was  beyond  all  doubt  the  happiest 
cook  in  the  kingdom ;  for,  that  nothing  might  be  lacking  in 
a  measure  of  felicity  as  great  as  may  be  known  in  this  world 
below,  her  vanity  was  continually  gratified — the  townspeople 
regarded  her  as  an  authority  of  an  indefinite  kind,  and 
ranked  her  somewhere  between  the  mayor  and  the  park- 
keeper. 

The  master  of  the  house  found  nobody  in  the  kitchen  when 
he  entered  it. 

"  Where  the  devil  are  they  all  gone  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Pardon 
me  for  bringing  you  in  this  way,"  he  went  on,  turning  to  Gen- 
estas.  "  The  front  entrance  opens  into  the  garden,  but  I  am 
so  little  accustomed  to  receive  visitors  that — Jacquotte  !  "  he 
called  in  rather  peremptory  tones. 

A  woman's  voice  answered  to  the  name  from  the  interior 
of  the  house.  A  moment  later  Jacquotte,  assuming  the 
offensive,  called  in  her  turn  to  Benassis,  who  forthwith  went 
into  the  dining-room. 

"Just  like  you,  sir  !  "  she  exclaimed;  "you  never  do  like 
anybody  else.  You  always  ask  people  to  dinner  without  tell- 
ing me  beforehand,  and  you  think  that  everything  is  settled 
as  soon  as  you  have  called  for  Jacquotte !  You  are  not 
going  to  have   the   gentleman  sit  in  the  kitchen,  are   you? 


36  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

Is  not  the  salon  to  be  unlocked  and  a  fire  to  be  lighted? 
Nicole  is  there,  and  will  see  after  everything.  Now  take  the 
gentleman  into  the  garden  for  a  minute  ;  that  will  amuse 
him ;  if  he  likes  to  look  at  pretty  things,  show  him  the 
arbor  of  hornbeam  trees  that  the  poor  dear  old  gentleman 
made.  I  shall  have  time  then  to  lay  the  cloth  and  to  get 
everything  ready,  the  dinner  and  the  salon  too." 

"  Yes.  But,  Jacquotte,"  Benassis  went  on,  "  the  gentleman 
is  going  to  stay  with  us.  Do  not  forget  to  give  a  look  round 
M.  Gravier's  room,  and  see  about  the  sheets  and  things, 
and " 

"Now  you  are  not  going  to  interfere  about  the  sheets, 
are  you  ?  "  asked  Jacquotte.  "  If  he  is  to  sleep  here,  I  know 
what  must  be  done  for  him  perfectly  well.  You  have  not 
so  much  as  set  foot  in  M.  Gravier's  room  these  ten  months 
past.  There  is  nothing  to  see  there,  the  place  is  as  clean  as  a 
new  pin.  Then  will  the  gentleman  make  some  stay  here?" 
she  continued  in  a  milder  tone. 

"Yes." 

"  How  long  will  he  stay  ? ' ' 

**  Faith,  I  do  not  know.     What  does  it  matter  to  you  ?  " 

"What  does  it  matter  to  me,  sir?  Oh!  very  well,  what 
does  it  matter  to  me  ?  Did  anyone  ever  hear  the  like  1  And 
the  provisions  and  all  that,  and " 

At  any  other  time  she  would  have  overwhelmed  her  master 
with  reproaches  for  his  breach  of  trust,  but  now  she  followed 
him  into  the  kitchen  before  the  torrent  of  words  had  come  to 
an  end.  She  had  guessed  that  there  was  a  prospect  of  a 
boarder,  and  was  eager  to  see  Genestas,  to  whom  she  made  a 
very  deferential  curtsey,  while  she  scanned  him  from  head  to 
foot.  A  thoughtful  and  dejected  expression  gave  a  harsh  look 
to  the  soldier's  face.  In  the  dialogue  between  master  and 
servant  the  latter  had  appeared  to  him  in  the  light  of  a  non- 
entity; and  although  he  regretted  the  fact,  this  revelation 
had  lessened  the  high  opinion  that  he  had  formed  of  the  man 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  37 

whose  persistent  efforts  to  save  the  district  from  the  horrors 
of  cretinism  had  won  his  admiration. 

**  I  do  not  like  the  looks  of  that  fellow  at  all !  "  said  Jac- 
quotte  to  herself. 

"If  you  are  not  tired,  sir,"  said  the  doctor  to  his  sup- 
posed patient,  "  we  will  take  a  turn  round  the  garden  before 
dinner." 

"  Willingly,"  answered  the  commandant. 

They  went  through  the  dining-room,  and  reached  the  gar- 
den by  way  of  a  sort  of  vestibule  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase 
between  the  salon  and  the  dining-room.  Beyond  a  great  glass 
door  at  the  farther  end  of  the  vestibule  lay  a  flight  of  stone 
steps  which  adorned  the  garden  side  of  the  house.  The  garden 
itself  was  divided  into  four  large  squares  of  equal  size  by  two 
paths  that  intersected  each  other  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  a  box 
edging  along  their  sides.  At  the  farther  end  there  was  a  thick, 
green  alley  of  hornbeam  trees,  which  had  been  the  joy  and 
pride  of  the  late  owner.  The  soldier  seated  himself  on  a 
worm-eaten  bench,  and  saw  neither  the  trellis-work  nor  the 
espaliers,  nor  the  vegetables  of  which  Jacquotte  took  such 
great  care.  She  followed  the  traditions  of  the  epicurean 
churchman  to  whom  this  valuable  garden  owed  its  origin  ;  but 
Benassis  himself  regarded  it  with  sufficient  indifference. 

The  commandant  turned  their  talk  from  the  trivial  matters 
which  had  occupied  them  by  saying  to  the  doctor — 

"  How  comes  it,  sir,  that  the  population  of  the  valley  has 
been  trebled  in  ten  years  ?  There  were  seven  hundred  souls 
in  it  when  you  came,  and  to-day  you  say  that  they  number 
more  than  two  thousand." 

**  You  are  the  first  person  who  has  put  that  question  to  me," 
the  doctor  answered.  "  Though  it  has  been  my  aim  to  de- 
velop the  capabilities  of  this  little  corner  of  the  earth  to  the 
Qtmost,  the  constant  pressure  of  a  busy  life  has  not  left  me 
time  to  think  over  the  way  in  which  (like  the  mendicant 
brother)  I  have  made  '  broth  from  a  flint '  on  a  large  scale. 


38  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

M.  Gravier  himself,  who  is  one  of  several  who  have  done  a 
great  deal  for  us,  and  to  whom  I  was  able  to  render  a  service 
by  re-establishing  his  health,  has  never  given  a  thought  to  the 
theory,  though  he  has  been  everywhere  over  our  mountain 
sides  with  me,  to  see  its  practical  results." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  during  which  Benassis  fol- 
lowed his  own  thoughts,  careless  of  the  keen  glance  by  which 
his  guest  tried  to  fathom  him. 

"You  ask  how  it  came  about,  my  dear  sir?"  the  doctor 
resumed.  "  It  came  about  quite  naturally  through  the  working 
of  the  social  law  by  which  the  need  and  means  of  supplying 
it  are  correlated.  Herein  lies  the  whole  story.  Races  who 
have  no  wants  are  always  poor.  When  I  first  came  to  live 
here  in  this  township  there  were  about  a  hundred  and  thirty 
peasant  families  in  it,  and  some  two  hundred  hearths  in  the 
valley.  The  local  authorities  were  such  as  might  be  expected 
in  the  prevailing  wretchedness  of  the  population.  The  mayor 
himself  could  not  write,  and  the  deputy-mayor  was  a  small 
farmer,  who  lived  beyond  the  limits  of  the  commune.  The 
justice  of  the  peace  was  a  poor  devil  who  had  nothing  but  his 
salary,  and  who  was  forced  to  relinquish  the  registration  of 
births,  marriages,  and  deaths  to  his  clerk,  another  hapless 
wretch  who  was  scarcely  able  to  understand  his  duties.  The 
old  cure  had  died  at  the  age  of  seventy,  and  his  curate,  a  quite 
uneducated  man,  had  just  succeeded  to  his  position.  These 
people  comprised  all  the  intelligence  of  the  district  over  which 
they  ruled. 

"  Those  who  dwelt  amidst  these  lovely  natural  surroundings 
groveled  in  squalor  and  lived  upon  potatoes,  milk,  butter,  and 
cheese.  The  only  produce  that  brought  in  any  money  was 
the  cheese,  which  most  of  them  carried  in  small  baskets  to 
Grenoble  or  its  outskirts.  The  richer  or  the  more  energetic 
among  them  sowed  buckwheat  for  home  consumption  ;  some- 
times they  raised  a  crop  of  barley  or  oats,  but  wheat  was  un- 
known.    The  only  trader  in  the  place  was  the  mayor,  who 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  39 

owned  a  sawmill  and  bought  up  timber  at  a  low  price  to  sell 
again.  In  the  absence  of  roads,  his  tree  trunks  had  to  be 
transported  during  the  summer  season  ;  each  log  was  dragged 
along  one  at  a  time,  and  with  no  small  difficulty,  by  means  of 
a  chain  attached  to  a  halter  about  his  horse's  neck,  and  an 
iron  hook  at  the  farther  end  of  the  chain,  which  was  driven 
into  the  wood.  Any  one  who  went  to  Grenoble,  whether  on 
horseback  or  afoot,  was  obliged  to  follow  a  track  high  up  on 
the  mountain  side,  for  the  valley  was  quite  impassable.  The 
pretty  road  between  this  place  and  the  first  village  that  you 
reach  as  you  come  into  the  canton  (the  way  along  which  you 
must  have  come)  was  nothing  but  a  slough  at  all  seasons  of 
the  year. 

'*  Political  events  and  revolutions  had  never  reached  this 
inaccessible  country — it  lay  completely  beyond  the  limits  of 
social  stir  and  change.  Napoleon's  name,  and  his  alone,  had 
penetrated  hither;  he  is  held  in  great  veneration,  thanks  to 
one  or  two  old  soldiers  who  have  returned  to  their  native 
homes,  and  who  of  evenings  tell  marvelous  tales  about  his 
adventures  and  his  armies  for  the  benefit  of  these  simple  folk. 
Their  coming  back  is,  moreover,  a  puzzle  that  no  one  can 
explain.  Before  I  came  here,  the  young  men  who  went  into 
the  army  all  stayed  in  it  for  good.  This  fact  in  itself  is  a 
sufficient  revelation  of  the  wretched  condition  of  the  country. 
I  need  not  give  you  a  detailed  description  of  it. 

"  This,  then,  was  the  state  of  things  when  I  first  came  to 
the  canton,  which  has  several  contented,  well-tilled,  and  fairly 
prosperous  communes  belonging  to  it  upon  the  other  side  of 
the  mountains.  I  will  say  nothing  about  the  hovels  in  the 
town ;  they  were  neither  more  nor  less  than  stables,  in  which 
men  and  animals  were  indiscriminately  huddled  together.  As 
there  was  no  inn  in  the  place,  I  was  obliged  to  ask  the  curate 
for  a  bed,  he  being  in  possession,  for  the  time  being,  of  this 
house,  then  offered  for  sale.  Putting  to  him  question  after 
question,  I  came  to  have  some  slight  knowledge  of  the  lament- 


40  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

able  condition  of  the  country  with  the  pleasant  climate,  the 
fertile  soil,  and  the  natural  productiveness  that  had  impressed 
me  so  much. 

"  At  that  time,  sir,  I  was  seeking  to  shape  a  future  for  my- 
self that  should  be  as  little  as  possible  like  the  troubled  life 
that  had  left  me  weary  j  and  one  of  those  thoughts  came  into 
my  mind  that  God  gives  to  us  at  times,  to  enable  us  to  take 
up  our  burdens  and  bear  them.  I  resolved  to  develop  all  the 
resources  of  this  country,  just  as  a  tutor  develops  the  capaci- 
ties of  a  child.  Do  not  think  too  much  of  my  benevolence ; 
the  pressing  need  that  I  felt  for  turning  my  thoughts  into 
fresh  channels  entered  too  much  into  my  motives.  I  had 
determined  to  give  up  the  remainder  of  my  life  to  some 
difficult  task.  A  lifetime  would  be  required  to  bring  about 
the  needful  changes  in  a  canton  that  nature  had  made  so 
wealthy,  and  man  so  poor  ;  and  I  was  tempted  by  the  practi- 
cal difficulties  that  stood  in  the  way.  As  soon  as  I  found  that 
I  could  secure  the  cure's  house  and  plenty  of  waste  land  at  a 
small  cost,  I  solemnly  devoted  myself  to  the  calling  of  a 
country  surgeon — the  very  last  position  that  a  man  aspires  to 
take.  I  determined  to  become  the  friend  of  the  poor,  and  to 
expect  no  reward  of  any  kind  from  them.  Oh  !  I  did  not  in- 
dulge in  any  illusions  as  to  the  nature  of  the  country  people,  nor 
as  to  the  hindrances  that  lie  in  the  way  of  every  attempt  to 
bring  about  a  better  state  of  things  among  men  or  their  sur- 
roundings. I  have  never  made  idyllic  pictures  of  my  people ; 
I  have  taken  them  at  their  just  worth — as  poor  peasants,  neither 
wholly  good  nor  wholly  bad,  whose  constant  toil  never  allows 
them  to  indulge  in  emotion,  though  they  can  feel  acutely  at 
times.  Above  all  things,  in  fact,  I  clearly  understood  that  I 
should  do  nothing  with  them  except  through  an  appeal  to  their 
selfish  interests,  and  by  schemes  for  their  immediate  well-being. 
The  peasants  are  one  and  all  the  sons  of  St.  Thomas,  the 
doubting  apostle — they  always  like  words  to  be  supported  by 
visible  facts. 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AXD    THE  MAN:  41 

"  Perhaps  you  will  laugh  at  my  first  start,  sir,"  the  doctor 
went  on  after  a  pause.  "  I  began  my  difficult  enterprise  by 
introducing  the  manufacture  of  baskets.  The  poor  folk  used 
to  buy  the  wicker  mats  on  which  they  drain  their  cheeses,  and 
all  the  baskets  needed  for  the  insignificant  trade  of  the  dis- 
trict. I  suggested  to  an  intelligent  young  fellow  that  he 
might  take  on  lease  a  good-sized  piece  of  land  by  the  side  of 
the  torrent.  Every  year  the  floods  deposited  a  rich  alluvial 
soil  on  this  spot,  where  there  should  be  no  difficulty  in  grow- 
ing osiers.  I  reckoned  out  the  quantity  of  wicker-work  of 
various  kinds  required  from  time  to  time  by  the  canton,  and 
went  over  to  Grenoble,  where  I  found  out  a  young  craftsman, 
a  clever  worker,  but  without  any  capital.  When  I  had  dis- 
covered him,  I  soon  made  up  my  mind  to  set  him  up  in  busi- 
ness here.  I  undertook  to  advance  the  money  for  the 
osiers  required  for  his  work  until  my  osier-farmer  should  be  in 
a  position  to  supply  him.  I  induced  him  to  sell  his  baskets  at 
rather  lower  prices  than  they  asked  for  them  in  Grenoble, 
while,  at  the  same  time,  they  were  better  made.  He  entered 
into  my  views  completely.  The  osier-beds  and  the  basket- 
making  were  two  business  speculations  whose  results  were  only 
appreciated  after  the  lapse  of  four  years.  Of  course,  you 
know  that  osiers  must  be  three  years  old  before  they  are  fit  to 
cut. 

"At  the  commencement  of  operations,  the  basket-maker 
was  boarded  and  lodged  gratuitously.  Before  very  long  he 
married  a  woman  from  Saint  Laurent  du  Pont,  who  had  a 
little  money.  Then  he  had  a  house  built  in  a  healthy  and 
very  airy  situation,  which  I  chose,  and  my  advice  was  fol- 
lowed as  to  the  internal  arrangements.  Here  was  a  triumph  1 
I  had  created  a  new  industry,  and  had  brought  a  producer 
and  several  workers  into  the  town.  I  wonder  if  you  will  re- 
gard my  elation  as  childish  ? 

"  For  the  first  few  days  after  my  basket- maker  had  set  up 
his  business,  I  never  went  past  his  shop  but  my  heart  beat 


42  THE  COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

somewhat  faster.  And  when  I  saw  the  newly-built  honse, 
with  the  green-painted  shutters,  the  vine  beside  the  doorway, 
and  the  bench  and  bundles  of  osiers  before  it ;  when  I  saw  a 
tidy,  neatly-dressed  woman  within  it,  nursing  a  plump,  pink 
and  white  baby,  among  the  workmen,  who  were  singing 
merrily  and  busily  plaiting  their  wicker-work  under  the 
superintendence  of  a  man  who  but  lately  had  looked  so 
pinched  and  pale,  but  now  had  an  atmosphere  of  prosperity 
about  him  ;  when  I  saw  all  this,  I  confess  that  I  could  not 
forego  the  pleasure  of  turning  basket-maker  for  a  moment,  of 
going  into  the  shop  to  hear  hov/  things  went  with  them,  and 
of  giving  myself  up  to  a  feeling  of  content  that  I  cannot  ex- 
press in  words,  for  I  had  all  their  happiness  as  well  as  my  own 
to  make  me  glad.  All  my  hopes  became  centred  on  this 
house,  where  the  man  dwelt  who  had  been  the  first  to  put  a 
steady  faith  in  me.  Like  the  basket-maker's  wife,  clasping 
her  first  nursling  to  her  breast,  did  not  I  already  fondly 
cherish  the  hopes  of  the  future  of  this  poor  district  ? 

"I  had  to  do  so  many  things  at  9nce,"  he  went  on,  "I 
came  into  collision  with  other  people's  notions,  and  met  with 
violent  opposition,  fomented  by  the  ignorant  mayor  to  whose 
office  I  had  succeeded,  and  whose  influence  had  dwindled 
away  as  mine  increased.  I  determined  to  make  him  my 
deputy,  and  a  confederate  in  my  schemes  of  benevolence. 
Yes,  in  the  first  place,  I  endeavored  to  instil  enlightened 
ideas  into  the  densest  of  all  heads.  Through  his  self-love 
and  cupidity  I  gained  a  hold  upon  my  man.  During  six 
months,  as  we  dined  together,  I  took  him  deeply  into  my 
confidence  about  my  projected  improvements.  Many  people 
would  think  this  intimacy  one  of  the  most  painful  inflictions 
in  the  course  of  my  task  ;  but  was  he  not  a  tool  of  the  most 
valuable  kind  ?  Woe  to  him  who  despises  his  axe,  or  flings  it 
carelessly  aside  !  Would  it  not  have  been  very  inconsistent, 
moreover,  if  I,  who  wished  to  improve  a  district,  had  shrank 
back  at  the  thought  of  improving  one  man  in  it  ? 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  48 

*'  A  road  was  our  first  and  most  pressing  need  in  bringing 
about  a  better  state  of  things.  If  we  could  obtain  permission 
from  the  Municipal  Council  to  make  a  hard  road,  so  as  to  put 
us  in  communication  with  the  highway  to  Grenoble,  the 
deputy-mayor  would  be  the  first  gainer  by  it,  for  instead  of 
dragging  his  timber  over  rough  tracks  at  a  great  expense,  a 
good  road  through  the  canton  would  enable  him  to  transport 
it  more  easily,  and  to  engage  in  a  traffic  on  a  large  scale,  in 
all  kinds  of  wood,  that  would  bring  in  money — not  a  miser- 
able six  hundred  francs  a  year,  but  handsome  sums  which 
would  mean  a  certain  fortune  for  him  some  day.  Convinced 
at  last,  he  became  my  proselytizer. 

**  Through  the  whole  of  one  winter  the  ex-mayor  got  into 
the  way  of  explaining  to  our  citizens  that  a  good  road  for 
wheeled  traffic  would  be  a  source  of  wealth  to  the  whole 
country  round,  for  it  would  enable  every  one  to  do  a  trade 
with  Grenoble  ;  he  held  forth  on  this  head  at  the  tavern  while 
drinking  with  his  intimates.  When  the  Municipal  Council 
had  authorized  the  making  of  the  road,  I  went  to  the  prefect 
and  obtained  some  money  from  the  charitable  funds  at  the 
disposal  of  the  department,  in  order  to  pay  for  the  hire  of 
carts,  for  the  commune  was  unable  to  undertake  the  transport 
of  road  material  for  lack  of  wheeled  conveyances.  The  igno- 
rant began  to  murmur  against  me,  and  to  say  that  I  wanted  to 
bring  back  the  days  of  compulsory  labor  again ;  this  made  me 
anxious  to  finish  this  important  work,  that  they  might  speedily 
appreciate  its  benefits.  With  this  end  in  view,  every  Sunday 
during  my  first  year  of  office  I  drew  the  whole  population  of  the 
township,  willing  or  unwilling,  up  on  to  the  mountain,  where 
I  myself  had  traced  out  on  a  hard  bottom  the  road  between 
our  village  and  the  highway  to  Grenoble.  Materials  for  mak- 
ing it  were  fortunately  to  be  had  in  plenty  all  along  the  site. 

**  The  tedious  enterprise  called  for  a  great  deal  of  patience 
on  my  part.  Some  who  were  ignorant  of  the  law  would 
refuse  at  times  to  give  their  contribution  of  labor;  others, 


44  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

again,  who  had  not  bread  to  eat,  really  could  not  afford  to 
lose  a  day.  Corn  had  to  be  distributed  among  these  last,  and 
the  others  must  be  soothed  with  friendly  words.  Yet  by  the 
time  we  had  finished  two-thirds  of  the  road,  which  in  all  is 
about  two  leagues  in  length,  the  people  had  so  thoroughly 
recognized  its  advantages,  that  the  remaining  third  was  accom- 
plished with  a  spirit  that  surprised  me.  I  added  to  the  future 
wealth  of  the  commune  by  planting  a  double  row  of  poplars 
along  the  ditch  on  either  side  of  the  way.  The  trees  are 
already  almost  worth  a  fortune,  and  they  make  our  road  look 
like  a  king's  highway.  It  is  almost  always  dry,  by  reason  of 
its  position,  and  it  was  so  well  made  that  the  annual  cost 
of  maintaining  it  is  a  bare  two  hundred  francs.  I  must  show 
it  to  you,  for  you  cannot  have  seen  it ;  you  must  have  come 
by  the  picturesque  way  along  the  valley  bottom,  a  road  which 
the  people  decided  to  make  for  themselves  three  years  later, 
so  as  to  connect  the  various  farms  that  were  made  there  at 
that  time.  In  three  years  ideas  had  rooted  themselves  in  the 
common  sense  of  this  township,  hitherto  so  lacking  in  intelli- 
gence that  a  passing  traveler  would  perhaps  have  thought  it 
hopeless  to  attempt  to  instil  them.     But  to  continue : 

"The  establishment  of  the  basket-maker  was  an  example 
set  before  these  poverty-stricken  folk  that  they  might  profit 
by  it.  And  if  the  road  was  to  be  a  direct  cause  of  the  future 
wealth  of  the  canton,  all  the  primary  forms  of  industry  must 
be  stimulated,  or  these  two  germs  of  a  better  state  of  things 
would  come  to  nothing.  My  own  work  went  forward  by 
slow  degrees,  as  I  helped  my  osier  farmer  and  wicker-worker 
and  saw  to  the  making  of  the  road. 

"I  had  two  horses,  and  the  timber  merchant,  the  deputy- 
mayor,  had  three.  He  could  only  have  them  shod  whenever 
he  went  over  to  Grenoble,  so  I  induced  a  farrier  to  take  up 
his  abode  here,  and  undertook  to  find  him  plenty  of  work. 
On  the  same  day  I  met  with  a  discharged  soldier,  who  had 
nothing  but  his  pension  of  a  hundred  francs,  and  was  suffi- 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE   AND    THE  MAN.  45 

ciently  perplexed  about  his  future.  He  could  read  and  write, 
so  I  engaged  him  as  secretary  to  the  mayor ;  as  it  happened, 
I  was  lucky  enough  to  find  a  wife  for  him,  and  his  dreams  of 
happiness  were  fulfilled. 

'*  Both  of  these  new  families  needed  houses,  as  well  as  the 
basket-maker  and  twenty-two  others  from  the  cretin  village ; 
soon  afterwards  twelve  more  households  were  established  in 
the  place.  The  workers  in  each  of  these  families  were  at 
once  producers  and  consumers.  They  were  masons,  carpen- 
ters, joiners,  slaters,  blacksmiths,  and  glaziers;  and  there  was 
work  enough  to  last  them  for  a  long  time,  for  had  they  not 
their  own  houses  to  build  when  they  had  finished  those  for 
other  people?  Seventy,  in  fact,  were  built  in  the  commune 
during  my  second  year  of  office.  One  form  of  production  de- 
mands another.  The  additions  to  the  population  of  the  town- 
ship had  created  fresh  wants,  hitherto  unknown  among  these 
dwellers  in  poverty.  The  wants  gave  rise  to  industries,  and 
industries  to  trade,  and  the  gains  of  trade  raised  the  standard 
of  comfort,  which  in  its  turn  gave  them  practical  ideas,  so 
justly  essential  to  their  prosperity  as  a  community. 

"  The  various  workmen  wished  to  buy  their  bread  ready 
baked,  so  we  came  to  have  a  baker.  Buckwheat  could  no 
longer  be  the  food  of  a  population  which,  awakened  from  its 
lethargy,  had  become  essentially  active.  They  lived  on  buck- 
wheat when  I  first  came  among  them,  and  I  wished  to  effect  a 
change  to  rye,  or  a  mixture  of  rye  and  wheat  in  the  first 
instance,  and  finally  to  see  a  loaf  of  white  bread  even  in  the 
poorest  household.  Intellectual  progress  to  my  thinking  was 
entirely  dependent  on  a  general  improvement  in  the  condi- 
tions of  life.  The  presence  of  a  butcher  in  a  district  says  as 
much  for  its  intelligence  as  for  its  wealth.  The  worker  feeds 
himself,  and  a  man  who  feeds  himself  thinks.  I  had  made  a 
very  careful  study  of  the  soil,  for  I  foresaw  a  time  when  it 
would  be  necessary  to  grow  wheat.  I  was  sure  of  launching 
the   place  in  a  very  prosperous   agricultural  career,  and  of 


46  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

doubling  the  population,  when  once  it  had  begun  to  work. 
And  now  the  time  had  come. 

"  M.  Gravier,  of  Grenoble,  owned  a  great  deal  of  land  in 
the  commune,  which  brought  him  in  no  rent,  but  which 
might  be  turned  into  corn-growing  land.  He  is  the  head  of 
a  department  in  the  Prefecture,  as  you  know.  It  was  a  kind- 
ness for  his  own  countryside  quite  as  much  as  my  earnest  en- 
treaties that  won  him  over.  He  had  very  benevolently 
yielded  to  ray  importunities  on  former  occasions,  and  I  suc- 
ceeded in  making  it  clear  to  him  that  in  so  doing  he  had 
wrought  unconsciously  for  his  own  benefit.  After  several 
days  spent  in  pleadings,  consultation,  and  talk,  the  matter  was 
thrashed  out.  I  undertook  to  guarantee  him  against  all  risks 
in  the  undertaking,  from  which  his  wife,  a  woman  of  no 
imagination,  sought  to  frighten  him.  He  agreed  to  build  four 
farmhouses  with  a  hundred  acres  of  land  attached  to  each,  and 
promised  to  advance  the  sums  required  to  pay  for  clearing  the 
ground,  for  seeds,  ploughing  gear,  and  cattle,  and  for  making 
occupation  roads. 

"  I  myself  also  started  two  farms,  quite  as  much  for  the 
sake  of  bringing  my  waste  land  into  cultivation  as  with  a  view 
to  giving  an  object-lesson  in  the  use  of  modern  methods  in 
agriculture.  In  six  weeks'  time  the  population  of  the  town 
increased  to  three  hundred  people.  Homes  for  several  fami- 
lies must  be  built  on  the  six  farms ;  there  was  a  vast  quan- 
tity of  land  to  be  broken  up ;  the  work  called  for  laborers. 
Wheelwrights,  drainmakers,  journeymen  and  laborers  of  all 
kinds  flocked  in.  The  road  to  Grenoble  was  covered  with 
carts  that  came  and  went.  All  the  countryside  was  astir. 
The  circulation  of  money  had  made  every  one  anxious  to  earn 
it,  apathy  had  ceased,  the  place  had  awakened. 

"  The  story  of  M.  Gravier,  one  of  those  who  did  so  much 
for  this  canton,  can  be  concluded  in  a  few  words.  In  spite 
of  cautious  misgivings,  not  unnatural  in  a  man  occupying  an 
official  position  in  a  provincial  town,  he  advanced  more  than 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  47 

forty  thousand  francs,  on  the  faith  of  my  promises,  without 
knowing  whether  he  should  ever  see  them  back  again.  To- 
day every  one  of  his  farms  is  let  for  a  thousand  francs.  His 
tenants  have  thriven  so  well  that  each  of  them  owns  at  least 
a  hundred  acres,  three  hundred  sheep,  twenty  cows,  ten  oxen, 
and  five  horses,  and  employs  more  than  twenty  persons. 

"But  to  resume:  Our  farms  were  ready  by  the  end  of  the 
fourth  year.  Our  wheat  harvest  seemed  miraculous  to  the 
people  in  the  district,  heavy  as  the  first  crop  off  the  land 
ought  to  be.  How  often  during  that  year  I  trembled  for  the 
success  of  my  work  !  Rain  or  drought  might  spoil  everything 
by  diminishing  the  belief  in  me  that  was  already  felt.  When 
we  began  to  grow  wheat,  it  necessitated  the  mill  that  you  have 
seen,  which  brings  me  in  about  five  hundred  francs  a  year. 
So  the  peasants  say  that  '  there  is  luck  about  me '  (that  is  the 
way  they  put  it),  and  believe  in  me  as  they  believe  in  their 
relics.  These  new  undertakings — the  farms,  the  mill,  the 
plantations,  and  the  roads — have  given  employment  to  all  the 
various  kinds  of  workers  whom  I  had  called  in.  Although 
the  buildings  fully  represented  the  value  of  the  sixty  thousand 
francs  of  capital,  which  we  sunk  in  the  district,  the  outlay 
was  more  than  returned  to  us  by  the  profits  on  the  sales  which 
the  consumers  occasioned.  I  never  ceased  my  efforts  to  put 
vigor  into  this  industrial  life  which  was  just  beginning.  A 
nurseryman  took  my  advice  and  came  to  settle  in  the  place, 
and  I  preached  wholesome  doctrine  to  the  poor  concerning 
the  planting  of  fruit  trees,  in  order  that  some  day  they  should 
obtain  a  monopoly  of  the  sale  of  fruit  in  Grenoble. 

** '  You  take  your  cheeses  there  as  it  is,'  I  used  to  tell  them, 
*  why  not  take  poultry,  eggs,  vegetables,  game,  hay,  and  straw, 
and  so  forth  ?  '  All  my  counsels  were  a  source  of  fortune ;  it 
was  a  question  of  who  should  follow  them  first.  A  number 
of  little  businesses  were  started ;  they  went  on  first  but  slowly, 
yet  from  day  to  day  their  progress  became  more  rapid  ;  and 
now  sixty  carts  full  of  the  various  products  of  the  district  set  out 


48  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

every  Monday  for  Grenoble,  and  there  is  more  buckwheat  grown 
for  poultry  food  than  they  used  to  sow  for  human  consumption. 
The  trade  in  timber  grew  to  be  so  considerable  that  it  was 
subdivided,  and  since  the  fourth  year  of  our  industrial  era,  we 
have  had  dealers  in  firewood,  squared  timber,  planks,  bark, 
and  later,  on,  in  charcoal.  In  the  end  four  new  sawmills 
were  set  up,  to  turn  out  the  planks  and  beams  of  timber. 

*'  When  the  ex-mayor  had  acquired  a  few  business  notions, 
he  felt  the  necessity  of  learning  to  read  and  write.  He  com- 
pared the  prices  that  were  asked  for  wood  in  various  neighbor- 
hoods, and  found  such  differences  in  his  favor  that  he  secured 
new  customers  in  one  place  after  another,  and  now  a  third 
of  the  trade  in  the  department  passes  through  his  hands. 
There  has  been  such  a  sudden  increase  in  our  traffic  that  we 
find  constant  work  for  three  wagon-builders  and  two  harness- 
makers,  each  of  them  employing  three  hands  at  least.  Lastly, 
the  quantity  of  ironware  that  we  use  is  so  large  that  an  agri- 
cultural implement  and  tool-maker  has  removed  into  the  town, 
and  is  very  well  satisfied  with  the  result. 

"The  desire  of  gain  develops  a  spirit  of  ambition,  which 
has  ever  since  impelled  our  workers  to  extend  their  field  from 
the  township  to  the  canton,  and  from  the  canton  to  the  de- 
partment, so  as  to  increase  their  profits  by  increasing  their 
sales.  I  had  only  to  say  a  word  to  point  out  new  openings  to 
them,  and  their  own  sense  did  the  rest.  Four  years  had  been 
sufficient  to  change  the  face  of  the  township.  When  I  had 
come  through  it  first,  I  did  not  catch  the  slightest  sound  ;  but 
in  less  than  five  years  from  that  time  there  were  life  and  bustle 
everywhere.  The  gay  songs,  the  shrill  or  murmuring  sounds 
made  by  the  tools  in  the  workshops  rang  pleasantly  in  my  ears. 
I  watched  the  comings  and  goings  of  a  busy  population  con- 
gregated in  the  clean  and  wholesome  new  town,  where  plenty 
of  trees  had  been  planted.  Every  one  of  them  seemed  con- 
scious of  a  happy  lot,  every  face  shone  with  the  content  that 
comes  through  a  life  of  useful  toil. 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  49 

**  I  look  upon  these  five  years  as  the  first  epoch  of  prosperity 
in  the  history  of  our  town,"  the  doctor  went  on  after  a  pause. 
"During  that  time  I  had  prepared  the  ground  and  sowed  the 
seed  in  men's  minds  as  well  as  in  the  land.  Henceforward 
industrial  progress  could  not  be  stayed,  the  population  was 
bound  to  go  forward.  A  second  epoch  was  about  to  begin. 
This  little  world  very  soon  desired  to  be  better  clad.  A  shoe- 
maker came,  and  with  him  a  haberdasher,  a  tailor,  and  a 
hatter.  This  dawn  of  luxury  brought  us  a  butcher  and  a 
grocer,  and  a  midwife,  who  became  very  necessary  to  me,  for 
I  lost  a  great  deal  of  time  over  maternity  cases.  The  stubbed 
wastes  yielded  excellent  harvests,  and  the  superior  quality  of 
our  agricultural  produce  was  maintained  through  the  increased 
supply  of  manure.  My  enterprise  could  now  develop  itself; 
everything  followed  on  quite  naturally. 

"  When  the  houses  had  been  rendered  wholesome,  and  their 
inmates  gradually  persuaded  to  feed  and  clothe  themselves 
better,  I  wanted  the  dumb  animals  to  feel  the  benefit  of  these 
beginnings  of  civilization.  All  the  excellence  of  cattle, 
whether  as  a  race  or  as  individuals,  and,  in  consequence,  the 
quality  of  the  milk  and  meat,  depends  upon  the  care  that  is 
expended  upon  them.  I  took  the  sanitation  of  cowsheds  for 
the  text  of  my  sermons.  I  showed  them  how  an  animal  that 
is  properly  housed  and  well  cared  for  is  more  profitable  than 
a  lean  neglected  beast,  and  the  comparison  wrought  a  gradual 
change  for  the  better  in  the  lot  of  the  cattle  in  the  commune. 
Not-  one  of  them  was  ill-treated.  The  cows  and  oxen  were 
rubbed  down  as  in  Switzerland  and  Auvergne.  Sheepfolds, 
stables,  byres,  dairies,  and  barns  were  rebuilt  after  the  pattern 
of  the  roomy,  well-ventilated,  and  consequently  healthy  stead- 
ings that  M.  Gravier  and  I  had  constructed.  Our  tenants 
became  my  apostles.  They  made  rapid  converts  of  unbe- 
lievers, demonstrating  the  soundness  of  my  doctrines  by  their 
prompt  results.  I  loaned  money  to  those  who  needed  it,  giving 
the  preference  to  hard-working  poor  people,  because  they 
4 


50  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

served  as  an  example.  Any  unsound  or  sickly  cattle  or  beasts 
of  poor  quality  were  quickly  disposed  of  by  my  advice,  and 
replaced  by  fine  specimens.  In  this  way  our  dairy  produce 
came,  in  time,  to  command  higher  prices  in  the  market  than 
that  sent  by  other  communes.  We  had  splendid  herds,  and, 
as  a  consequence,  capital  leather. 

**This  step  forward  was  of  great  importance,  and  in  this 
wise :  In  rural  economy  nothing  can  be  regarded  as  trifling. 
Our  hides  used  to  fetch  scarcely  anything,  and  the  leather  we 
made  was  of  little  value,  but  when  once  our  leather  and  hides 
were  improved,  tanneries  were  easily  established  along  the 
waterside.    We  became  tanners,  and  business  rapidly  increased. 

"Wine,  properly  speaking,  had  been  hitherto  unknown  ;  a 
thin,  sour  beverage  like  verjuice  had  been  their  only  drink, 
but  now  wineshops  were  established  to  supply  a  natural  de- 
mand. The  oldest  tavern  was  enlarged  and  transformed  into 
an  inn,  which  furnished  mules  to  pilgrims  to  the  Grande 
Chartreuse  who  began  to  come  our  way,  and  after  two  years 
there  was  enough  business  for  two  innkeepers. 

"The  justice  of  the  peace  died  just  as  our  second  pros- 
perous epoch  began,  and,  luckily  for  us,  his  successor  had 
formerly  been  a  notary  in  Grenoble  who  had  lost  most  of  his 
fortune  by  a  bad  speculation,  though  enough  of  it  yet  re- 
mained to  cause  him  to  be  looked  upon  in  the  village  as  a 
wealthy  man.  It  was  M.  Gravier  who  induced  him  to  settle 
among  us.  He  built  himself  a  comfortable  house  and  helped 
me  by  uniting  his  efforts  to  mine.  He  also  laid  out  a  farm, 
and  broke  up  and  cleaned  some  of  the  waste  land,  and  at  this 
moment  he  has  three  chalets  up  above  on  the  mountain  side. 
He  has  a  large  family.  He  dismissed  the  old  registrar  and  the 
clerk,  and  in  their  place  installed  better  educated  men,  who 
worked  far  harder,  moreover,  than  their  predecessors  had 
done.  One  of  the  heads  of  these  two  new  households  started 
a  distillery  of  potato-spirit,  and  the  other  was  a  wool-washer ; 
each   combined  these  occupations  with   their   official   work, 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  51 

and  in  this  way  two  valuable  industries  were  created  among 
us. 

"  Now  that  the  commune  had  some  revenues  of  its  own,  no 
opposition  was  raised  in  any  quarter  when  they  were  spent  on 
building  a  town-hall,  with  a  free  school  for  elementary  educa- 
tion in  the  building  and  accommodation  for  a  teacher.  For 
this  important  post  I  had  selected  a  poor  priest  who  had  taken 
the  oath,  and  had  therefore  been  cast  out  by  the  department, 
and  who  at  last  found  a  refuge  among  us  for  his  old  age.  The 
schoolmistress  is  a  very  worthy  woman  who  had  lost  all  that 
she  had,  and  was  in  great  distress.  We  made  up  a  nice  little 
sura  for  her,  and  she  has  just  opened  a  boarding-school  for 
girls  to  which  the  wealthy  farmers  hereabouts  are  beginning  to 
send  their  daughters. 

*•'  If  so  far,  sir,  I  have  been  entitled  to  tell  you  the  story  of 
my  own  doings  as  the  chronicler  of  this  little  spot  of  earth,  I 
have  reached  the  point  when  M.  Janvier,  the  new  parson, 
began  to  divide  the  work  of  regeneration  with  me.  He  has 
been  a  second  Fenelon,  unknown  beyond  the  narrow  limits 
of  a  country  parish,  and  by  some  secret  of  his  own  has  in- 
fused a  spirit  of  brotherliness  and  of  charity  among  these 
folk  that  has  made  them  almost  like  one  large  family.  M. 
Dufau,  the  justice  of  the  peace,  was  a  later  comer,  but  he  in 
an  equal  degree  deserves  the  gratitude  of  the  people  here. 

"I  will  put  the  whole  position  before  you  in  figures  that 
will  make  it  clearer  than  any  words  of  mine.  At  this 
moment  the  commune  owns  two  hundred  acres  of  woodland 
and  a  hundred  and  sixty  acres  of  meadow.  Without  running 
up  the  rates,  we  give  a  hundred  crowns  to  supplement  the 
cure's  stipend,  we  pay  two  hundred  francs  to  the  rural  police- 
man, and  as  much  again  to  the  schoolmaster  and  school- 
mistress. The  maintenance  of  the  roads  costs  us  five  hundred 
francs,  while  necessary  repairs  to  the  town-hall,  the  parsonage, 
and  the  church,  with  some  few  other  expenses,  also  amount  to 
a  similar  sum.     In  fifteen  years'  time  there  will  be  a  thousand 


62  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

francs'  worth  of  wood  to  fell  for  every  hundred  francs'  worth 
cut  now,  and  the  taxes  will  not  cost  the  inhabitants  a  penny. 
This  commune  is  bound  to  become  one  of  the  richest  in 
France.  But  perhaps  I  am  taxing  your  patience,  sir  ?  "  said 
Benassis,  suddenly  discovering  that  his  companion  wore  such 
a  pensive  expression  that  it  seemed  as  though  his  attention  was 
wandering. 

"  No  !  no  !  "  answered  the  commandant. 

"Our  trade,  handicrafts,  and  agriculture  so  far  only  sup- 
plied the  needs  of  the  district,"  the  doctor  went  on.  "At  a 
certain  point  our  prosperity  came  to  a  standstill.  I  wanted  a 
postoffice,  and  sellers  of  tobacco,  stationery,  powder  and  shot. 
The  receiver  of  taxes  had  hitherto  preferred  to  live  elsewhere, 
but  now  I  succeeded  in  persuading  him  to  take  up  his  abode 
in  the  town,  holding  out  as  inducements  the  pleasantness  of 
the  place  and  of  the  new  society.  As  time  and  place  per- 
mitted I  had  succeeded  in  producing  a  supply  of  everything 
for  which  I  had  first  created  a  need,  in  attracting  families  of 
hard-working  people  into  the  district,  and  in  implanting  a  de- 
sire to  own  land  in  them  all.  So  by  degrees,  as  they  saved  a 
little  money,  the  waste  land  began  to  be  broken  up ;  spade 
husbandry  and  small  holdings  increased  ;  so  did  the  value  of 
property  on  the  mountain. 

"  Those  struggling  folk  who,  when  I  knew  them  first,  used 
to  walk  over  to  Grenoble  carrying  their  few  cheeses  for  sale, 
now  made  the  journey  comfortably  in  a  cart,  and  took  fruit, 
eggs,  chickens  and  turkeys,  and  before  they  were  aware  of  it, 
every  one  was  a  little  richer.  Even  those  who  came  off  worse 
had  a  garden  at  any  rate,  and  grew  early  vegetables  and  fruit. 
It  became  the  children's  work  to  watch  the  cattle  in  the  fields, 
and  at  last  it  was  found  to  be  a  waste  of  time  to  bake  bread 
at  home.     Here  were  signs  of  prosperity  ! 

"  But  if  this  place  was  to  be  a  permanent  forge  of  industry, 
fuel  must  be  constantly  added  to  the  fire.  The  town  had  not 
as  yet  a  renascent  industry  which  could  maintain  this  com- 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  53 

mercial  process,  an  industry  which  should  make  great  trans- 
actions, a  warehouse,  and  a  market  necessary.  It  is  not 
enough  that  a  country  should  lose  none  of  tlie  money  that 
forms  its  capital ;  you  will  not  increase  its  prosperity  by 
more  or  less  ingenious  devices  for  causing  this  amount  to 
circulate  by  means  of  production  and  consumption,  through 
the  greatest  possible  number  of  hands.  That  is  not  where 
your  problem  lies.  When  a  country  is  fully  developed  and 
its  production  keeps  pace  with  its  consumption,  if  private 
wealth  is  to  increase  as  well  as  the  wealth  of  the  community 
at  large,  there  must  be  exchanges  with  other  communities, 
which  will  keep  a  balance  on  the  right  side  of  the  balance- 
sheet.  This  thought  has  led  states  with  a  limited  territorial 
basis  like  Tyre,  Carthage,  Venice,  Holland,  and  England, 
for  instance,  to  secure  the  carrying  trade.  I  cast  about  for 
some  such  notion  as  this  to  apply  to  our  little  world,  so  as  to 
inaugurate  a  third  commercial  epoch.  Our  town  is  so  much 
like  any  other,  that  our  prosperity  was  scarcely  visible  to  a 
passing  stranger ;  it  was  only  for  me  that  it  was  astonishing. 
The  folk  had  come  together  by  degrees ;  they  themselves  were 
a  part  of  the  change,  and  could  not  judge  of  its  effects  as  a 
whole. 

'*  Seven  years  had  gone  by  when  I  met  with  two  strangers, 
the  real  benefactors  of  the  place,  which  perhaps  some  day  they 
will  transform  into  a  large  town.  One  of  them  is  a  Tyrolese, 
an  exceedingly  clever  fellow,  who  makes  rough  shoes  for 
country  people's  wear,  and  boots  for  people  of  fashion  in 
Grenoble  as  no  one  can  make  them,  not  even  in  Paris  itself. 
He  was  a  poor  strolling  musician,  who,  singing  and  working, 
had  made  his  way  through  Italy ;  one  of  those  busy  Germans 
who  fashion  the  tools  for  their  own  work,  and  make  the  in- 
strument that  they  play  upon.  When  he  came  to  the  town 
he  asked  if  any  one  wanted  a  pair  of  shoes.  They  sent  him 
to  me,  and  I  gave  him  an  order  for  two  pairs  of  boots,  for 
which  he  made  his  own  lasts.     The  foreigner's  skill  surprised 


54  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

me.  He  gave  accurate  and  consistent  answers  to  the  ques- 
tions I  put,  and  his  face  and  manner  confirmed  the  good 
opinion  I  had  formed  of  him.  I  suggested  that  he  should 
settle  in  the  place,  undertaking  to  assist  him  in  business  in 
every  way  that  I  could ;  in  fact,  I  put  a  fairly  large  sum  of 
money  at  his  disposal.  He  accepted  my  offer.  I  had  my 
own  ideas  in  this.  The  quality  of  our  leather  had  improved ; 
and  why  should  we  not  use  it  ourselves,  and  before  very  long 
make  our  own  shoes  at  moderate  prices  ? 

"  It  was  the  basket-maker's  business  over  again  on  a  larger 
scale.  Chance  had  put  an  exceedingly  clever  hard-working 
man  in  my  way,  and  he  must  be  retained  so  that  a  steady  and 
profitable  trade  might  be  given  to  the  place.  There  is  a  con- 
stant demand  for  foot-gear,  and  a  very  slight  difference  in 
price  is  felt  at  once  by  the  purchaser. 

"  This  was  my  reasoning,  sir,  and  fortunately  events  have 
justified  it.  At  this  time  we  have  five  lanyards,  each  of 
which  has  its  bark-mill.  They  take  all  the  hides  produced 
in  the  department  itself,  and  even  draw  part  of  their  supply 
from  Provence;  and  yet  the  Tyrolese  uses  more  leather 
than  they  can  produce,  and  has  forty  workpeople  in  his 
employ  ! 

"  I  happened  on  the  other  man  after  a  fashion  no  whit  less 
strange,  but  you  might  find  the  story  tedious.  He  is  just  an 
ordinary  peasant,  who  discovered  a  cheaper  way  of  making 
the  great  broad-brimmed  hats  that  are  worn  in  this  part  of  the 
world.  He  sells  them  in  other  cantons,  and  even  sends  them 
into  Switzerland  and  Savoy.  So  long  as  the  quality  and  the 
low  prices  can  be  maintained,  here  are  two  inexhaustible 
sources  of  wealth  for  the  canton,  which  suggested  to  my  mind 
the  idea  of  establishing  three  fairs  in  the  year.  The  prefect, 
amazed  at  our  industrial  progress,  lent  his  aid  in  obtaining 
the  royal  ordinance  which  authorized  them,  and  last  year  we 
held  our  three  fairs.  They  are  known  as  far  as  Savoy  as  the 
Shoe  Fair  and  the  Hat  Fair, 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND   THE  MAN.  55 

"The  head  clerk  of  a  notary  in  Grenoble  heard  of  these 
changes.  He  was  poor,  but  he  is  a  well-educated,  hard- 
working young  fellow,  and  Mile.  Gravier  was  engaged  to  be 
noarried  to  him.  He  went  to  Paris  to  ask  for  an  authoriza- 
tion to  establish  himself  here  as  a  notary,  and  his  request 
was  granted.  As  he  did  not  have  to  pay  for  his  appointment, 
he  could  afford  to  build  a  house  in  the  market-square  of 
the  new  town,  opposite  the  house  of  the  justice  of  the  peace. 
We  have  a  market  once  a  week,  and  a  considerable  amount 
of  business  is  transacted  in  corn  and  cattle. 

'*  Next  year  a  druggist  surely  ought  to  come  among  us,  and 
next  we  want  a  clockmaker,  a  furniture  dealer,  and  a  book- 
seller ;  and  so,  by  degrees,  we  shall  have  all  the  desirable 
luxuries  of  life.  Who  knows  but  that  at  last  we  shall  have  a 
number  of  substantial  houses,  and  give  ourselves  all  the  airs 
of  a  small  city  ?  Education  has  made  such  strides  that  there 
has  never  been  any  opposition  made  at  the  council  board 
when  I  proposed  that  we  should  restore  our  church  and 
build  a  parsonage ;  nor  when  I  brought  forward  a  plan  for 
laying  out  a  fine  open  space,  planted  with  trees,  where  the 
fairs  could  be  held,  and  a  further  scheme  for  a  survey  of  the 
township,  so  that  its  future  streets  should  be  wholesome, 
spacious,  and  wisely  planned. 

"This  is  how  we  came  to  have  nineteen  hundred  hearths  in 
the  place  of  a  hundred  and  thirty-seven  ;  three  thousand  head 
of  cattle  instead  of  eight  hundred  ;  and  for  a  population  of 
seven  hundred,  no  less  than  two  thousand  persons  are  living  in 
the  township,  or  three  thousand,  if  the  people  down  the  valley 
are  included.  There  are  twelve  houses  belonging  to  wealthy 
people  in  the  commune,  there  are  a  hundred  well-to-do  fami- 
lies, and  two  hundred  more  which  are  thriving.  The  rest 
have  their  own  exertions  to  look  to.  Every  one  knows  how 
to  read  and  write,  and  we  subscribe  to  seventeen  different 
newspapers. 

"  We  have  poor  people  still  among  us — there  are  far  too 


56  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

many  of  them,  in  fact;  but  we  have  no  beggars,  and  there 
is  work  enough  for  all.  I  have  so  many  patients  that  my 
daily  round  taxes  the  powers  of  two  horses.  I  can  go 
anywhere  for  five  miles  round  at  any  hour  without  fear; 
for  if  any  one  was  minded  to  fire  a  shot  at  me, .his  life 
would  not  be  worth  ten  minutes'  purchase.  The  undemon- 
strative affection  of  the  people  is  my  sole  gain  from  all 
these  changes,  except  the  radiant  'Good-day,  M.  Benassis,' 
that  every  one  gives  me  as  I  pass.  You  will  understand,  of 
course,  that  the  wealth  incidentally  acquired  through  my  model 
farms  has  only  been  a  means  and  not  an  end." 

"  If  every  one  followed  your  example  in  other  places,  sir, 
France  would  be  great  indeed,  and  might  laugh  at  the  rest  of 
Europe!  "  cried  Genestas  enthusiastically. 

"  But  I  have  kept  you  out  here  for  half  an  hour,"  said 
Benassis ;  "  it  is  growing  dark,  let  us  go  in  to  dinner." 

The  doctor's  house,  on  the  side  facing  the  garden,  consists 
of  a  ground  floor  and  a  single  story,  with  a  row  of  five  win- 
dows in  each ;  dormer  windows  also  project  from  the  tiled 
mansard  roof.  The  green-painted  shutters  are  in  startling 
contrast  with  the  gray  tones  of  the  wall.  A  vine  wanders  along 
the  whole  side  of  the  house,  a  pleasant  strip  of  green  like  a 
frieze,  between  the  two  stories.  A  few  struggling  Bengal  roses 
make  shift  to  live  as  best  they  may,  half  drowned  at  times  by 
the  drippings  from  the  gutterless  eves. 

As  you  enter  the  large  vestibule,  the  salon  lies  to  your  right ; 
it  contains  four  windows,  two  of  which  look  into  the  yard,  and 
two  into  the  garden.  Ceiling  and  wainscot  are  paneled,  and 
the  walls  are  hung  with  seventeenth  century  tapestry — pathetic 
evidence  that  the  room  had  been  the  object  of  the  late  owner's 
aspiration,  and  that  he  had  lavished  all  that  he  could  spare 
upon  it.  The  great  roomy  armchairs,  covered  with  brocaded 
damask;  the  old-fashioned  gilded  candle-sconces  above  the 
chimney-piece,  and  the  window   curtains  with   their   heavy 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  57 

tassels,  showed  that  the  cure  had  been  a  wealthy  man.  Benassis 
had  made  some  additions  to  this  furniture,  which  was  not 
without  a  character  of  its  own.  He  had  placed  two  smaller 
tables,  decorated  with  carved  wooden  garlands,  between  the 
windows  on  opposite  sides  of  the  room,  and  had  put  a 
clock,  in  a  case  of  tortoise  shell,  inlaid  with  copper,  upon  the 
mantle-shelf.  The  doctor  seldom  occupied  the  salon ;  its 
atmosphere  was  damp  and  close,  like  that  of  a  room  that  is 
always  kept  shut.  Memories  of  the  dead  cure  still  lingered 
about  it ;  the  peculiar  scent  of  his  tobacco  seemed  to  pervade 
the  corner  by  the  hearth  where  he  had  been  wont  to  sit.  The 
two  great  easy-chairs  were  symmetrically  arranged  on  either 
side  of  the  fire,  which  had  not  been  lighted  since  the  time  of 
M.  Gravier's  visit ;  the  bright  flames  from  the  pine  logs  lighted 
the  room. 

"The  evenings  are  chilly  even  now,"  said  Benassis;  "it  is 
pleasant  to  see  a  fire." 

Genestas  was  meditating.  He  was  beginning  to  under- 
stand the  doctor's  indifference  to  his  every-day  surroundings. 

"  It  is  surprising  to  me,  sir,  that  you,  who  possess  real  public 
spirit,  should  have  made  no  effort  to  enlighten  the  govern- 
ment, after  accomplishing  so  much." 

Benassis  began  to  laugh,  but  without  bitterness ;  he  said, 
rather  sadly — 

"  You  mean  that  I  should  draw  up  some  sort  of  memorial 
on  various  ways  of  civilizing  France  ?  You  are  not  the  first 
to  suggest  it,  sir;  M.  Gravier  has  forestalled  you.  Unluckily, 
governments  cannot  be  enlightened,  and  a  government  which 
regards  itself  as  a  diffuser  of  light  is  the  least  open  to  enlight- 
enment. What  we  have  done  for  our  canton,  every  mayor 
ought,  of  course,  to  do  for  his ;  the  magistrate  should  work  for 
his  town,  the  sub-prefect  for  his  district,  the  prefect  for  the 
department,  and  the  minister  for  France,  each  acting  in  his 
own  sphere  of  interest.  For  the  few  miles  of  country  road 
that  I  persuaded  our  people  to  make,  another  would  succeed 


58  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

in  constructing  a  canal  or  a  highway ;  and  for  my  encourage- 
ment of  the  peasants'  trade  in  hats,  a  minister  would  emanci- 
pate France  from  the  industrial  yoke  of  the  foreigner  by 
encouraging  the  manufacture  of  clocks  in  different  places,  by 
helping  to  bring  to  perfection  our  iron  and  steel,  our  tools 
and  appliances,  or  by  bringing  silk  or  dyer's  woad  into  culti- 
vation. 

*'  In  commerce,  *  encouragement '  does  not  mean  protec- 
tion. A  really  wise  policy  should  aim  at  making  a  country 
independent  of  foreign  supply,  but  this  should  be  effected  with- 
out resorting  to  the  pitiful  shifts  of  customs  duties  and  prohibi- 
tions. Industries  must  work  out  their  own  salvation,  com- 
petition is  the  life  of  trade.  A  protected  industry  goes  to 
sleep,  and  monopoly,  like  the  protective  tariff,  kills  it  out- 
right. The  country  upon  which  all  others  depend  for  their 
supplies  will  be  the  land  which  will  promulgate  free  trade,  for 
it  will  be  conscious  of  its  power  to  produce  its  manufactures 
at  prices  lower  than  those  of  any  of  its  competitors.  France 
is  in  a  better  position  to  attain  this  end  than  England,  for 
France  alone  possesses  an  amount  of  territory  sufficiently 
extensive  to  maintain  a  supply  of  agricultural  produce  at 
prices  that  will  enable  the  worker  to  live  on  low  wages ;  the 
Administration  should  keep  this  end  in  view,  for  therein  lies 
the  whole  modern  question.  I  have  not  devoted  my  life  to 
this  study,  dear  sir ;  I  found  my  work  by  accident,  and  late 
in  the  day.  Such  simple  things  as  these  are  too  slight,  more- 
over, to  build  into  a  system ;  there  is  nothing  wonderful 
about  them,  they  do  not  lend  themselves  to  theories ;  it  is 
their  misfortune  to  be  merely  practically  useful.  And  then 
work  cannot  be  done  quickly.  The  man  who  means  to  suc- 
ceed in  these  ways  must  daily  look  to  find  within  himself 
the  stock  of  courage  needed  for  the  day,  a  courage  in  reality 
of  the  rarest  kind,  though  it  does  not  seem  hard  to  practise, 
and  meets  with  little  recognition — the  courage  of  the  school- 
master, who  must  say  the  same  things  over  and  over  again. 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  59 

We  all  honor  the  man  who  has  shed  his  blood  on  the  battle- 
field, as  you  have  done  ;  but  we  ridicule  this  other  whose  life- 
fire  is  slowly  consumed  in  repeating  the  same  words  to  children 
of  the  same  age.  There  is  no  attraction  for  any  of  us  in 
obscure  well-doing.  We  know  nothing  of  the  civic  virtue 
that  led  the  great  men  of  ancient  times  to  serve  their  country 
in  the  lowest  rank  whenever  they  did  not  command.  Our 
age  is  afflicted  with  a  disease  that  makes  each  of  us  seek  to 
rise  above  his  fellows,  and  there  are  more  saints  than  shrines 
among  us. 

**  This  is  how  it  has  come  to  pass.  The  Monarchy  fell,  and 
we  lost  honor.  Christian  virtue  faded  with  the  religion  of  our 
forefathers,  and  our  own  ineffectual  attempts  at  government 
have  destroyed  patriotism.  Ideas  can  never  utterly  perish, 
so  these  beliefs  linger  on  in  our  midst,  but  they  do  not  influ- 
ence the  great  mass  of  the  people,  and  society  has  no  support 
but  egoism.  Every  individual  believes  in  himself.  For  us 
the  future  means  egoism  ;  further  than  that  we  cannot  see. 
The  great  man  who  shall  save  us  from  the  shipwreck  which  is 
imminent  will  no  doubt  avail  himself  of  individualism  when 
he  makes  a  nation  of  us  once  more ;  but  until  this  regenera- 
tion comes,  we  bide  our  time  in  a  materialistic  and  utilitarian 
age.  Utilitarianism — to  this  conclusion  have  we  come.  We 
are  all  rated,  not  at  our  just  worth,  but  according  to  our 
social  importance.  People  will  scarcely  look  at  an  energetic 
man  if  he  is  in  shirt-sleeves.  The  government  itself  is  per- 
vaded by  this  idea.  A  minister  sends  a  paltry  medal  to  a 
sailor  who  has  saved  a  dozen  lives  at  the  risk  of  his  own,  while 
the  deputy  who  sells  his  vote  to  those  in  power  receives  the 
Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor. 

"  Woe  to  a  people  made  up  of  such  men  as  these  !  For  na- 
tions, like  men,  owe  all  the  strength  and  vitality  that  is  in  them  to 
noble  thoughts  and  aspirations,  and  men's  feelings  shape  their 
faith.  But  when  self-interest  has  taken  the  place  of  faith,  and 
each  one  of  us  thinks  only  of  himself,  and  believes  in  himself 


60  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

alone,  how  can  you  expect  to  find  among  us  much  of  that 
civil  courage  whose  very  essence  consists  in  self-renunciation  ? 
The  same  principle  underlies  both  military  and  civil  courage, 
although  you  soldiers  are  called  upon  to  yield  your  lives  up 
once  and  for  all,  while  ours  are  given  slowly  drop  by  drop, 
and  the  battle  is  the  same  for  both,  although  it  takes  different 
forms. 

"The  man  who  would  fain  civilize  the  lowliest  spot  on  earth 
needs  something  besides  wealth  for  the  task.  Knowledge  is 
still  more  necessary ;  and  knowledge,  and  patriotism,  and  in- 
tegrity are  worthless  unless  they  are  accompanied  by  a  firm 
determination  on  his  part  to  set  his  own  personal  interests 
completely  aside,  and  to  devote  himself  to  a  social  idea. 
France,  no  doubt,  possesses  more  than  one  well-educated  man 
and  more  than  one  patriot  in  every  commune ;  but  I  am  fully 
persuaded ,  that  not  every  canton  can  produce  a  man  who  to 
these  valuable  qualifications  unites  the  unflagging  will  and 
pertinacity  with  which  a  blacksmith  hammers  out  iron. 

"The  destroyer  and  the  builder  are  two  manifestations  of 
will :  the  one  prepares  the  way,  and  the  other  accomplishes 
the  work ;  the  first  appears  in  the  guise  of  a  spirit  of  evil,  and 
the  second  seems  like  the  spirit  of  good.  Glory  falls  to  the 
destroyer,  while  the  builder  is  forgotten ;  for  evil  makes  a 
noise  in  the  world  that  rouses  little  souls  to  admiration,  while 
good  deeds  are  slow  to  make  themselves  heard.  Self-love 
leads  us  to  prefer  the  more  conspicuous  part.  If  it  should 
happen  that  any  public  work  is  undertaken  without  an  in- 
terested motive,  it  will  only  be  by  accident,  until  the  day 
when  education  has  changed  our  ways  of  regarding  things  in 
France. 

"Yet  suppose  that  this  change  had  come  to  pass,  and  that 
all  of  us  were  public-spirited  citizens ;  in-  spite  of  our  comfort- 
able lives  among  trivialities,  should  we  not  be  in  a  fair  way  to 
become  the  most  wearied,  wearisome,  and  unfortunate  race  of 
Philistines  under  the  sun  ? 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  61 

"I  am  not  at  the  helm  of  state,  the  decision  of  great  ques- 
tions of  this  kind  is  not  within  my  province;  but,  setting 
these  considerations  aside,  there  are  other  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  laying  down  hard  and  fast  rules  as  to  government.  In 
the  matter  of  civilization,  everything  is  relative.  Ideas  that 
suit  one  country  admirably  are  fatal  in  another — men's  minds 
are  as  various  as  the  soils  of  the  globe.  If  we  have  so  often 
been  ill  governed,  it  is  because  a  faculty  for  government,  like 
taste,  is  the  outcome  of  a  very  rare  and  lofty  attitude  of  mind. 
The  qualifications  for  the  work  are  found  in  a  natural  bent  of 
the  soul  rather  than  in  the  possession  of  scientific  formulae. 
No  one  need  fear,  however,  to  call  himself  a  statesman,  for 
his  actions  and  motives  cannot  be  justly  estimated  ;  his  real 
judges  are  far  away,  and  the  results  of  his  deeds  are  even  more 
remote.  We  have  a  great  respect  here  in  France  for  men  of 
ideas — a  keen  intellect  exerts  a  great  attraction  for  us ;  but 
ideas  are  of  little  value  where  a  resolute  will  is  the  one  thing 
needful.  Administration,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  does  not  con- 
sist in  forcing  more  or  less  wise  methods  and  ideas  upon  the 
great  mass  of  the  nation,  but  in  giving  to  the  ideas,  good  or 
bad,  that  they  already  possess  a  practical  turn  which  will 
make  them  conduce  to  the  general  welfare  of  the  state.  If 
old-established  prejudices  and  customs  bring  a  country  into  a 
bad  way,  the  people  will  renounce  their  errors  of  their  own 
accord.  Are  not  losses  the  result  of  economical  errors  of 
every  kind?  And  is  it  not,  therefore,  to  every  one's  interest 
to  rectify  them  in  the  long-run  ? 

"  Luckily  I  found  a  blank  tablet  in  this  district.  They  have 
followed  my  advice,  and  the  land  is  well  cultivated;  but  there 
had  been  no  previous  errors  in  agriculture,  and  the  soil  was 
good  to  begin  with,  so  that  it  has  been  easy  to  introduce  the 
five-ply  shift,  artificial  grasses,  and  potatoes.  My  methods 
did  not  clash  with  the  people's  prejudices.  The  faultily  con- 
structed ploughshares  in  use  in  some  parts  of  France  were  un- 
known here,  the  hoe  sufficed  for  the  little  field  work  that  they 


62  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

did.  Our  wheelwright  extolled  my  wheeled  ploughs  because 
he  wished  to  increase  his  own  business,  so  I  secured  an  ally  in 
him ;  but  in  this  matter,  as  in  all  others,  I  sought  to  make  the 
good  of  one  conduce  to  the  good  of  all. 

"  Then  I  turned  my  attention  to  another  kind  of  produc- 
tion, that  should  increase  the  welfare  rather  than  the  wealth 
of  these  poor  folk.  I  have  brought  nothing  from  without  into 
this  district ;  I  have  simply  encouraged  the  people  to  seek 
beyond  its  limits  for  a  market  for  their  produce,  a  measure 
that  could  not  but  increase  their  prosperity  in  a  way  that  they 
felt  immediately.  They  had  no  idea  of  the  fact,  but  they 
themselves  were  my  apostles,  and  their  works  preached  my 
doctrines.  Something  else  must  also  be  borne  in  mind.  We 
are  barely  five  leagues  from  Grenoble.  There  is  plenty  of 
demand  in  a  large  city  for  produce  of  all  kinds,  but  not  every 
commune  is  situated  at  the  gates  of  a  city.  In  every  similar 
undertaking,  the  nature,  situation,  and  resources  of  the  country 
must  be  taken  into  consideration,  and  a  careful  study  must  be 
made  of  the  soil,  of  the  people  themselves,  and  of  many  other 
things;  and  no  one  should  expect  to  have  vines  grow  in 
Normandy.  So  no  tasks  can  be  more  various  than  those  of 
government,  and  its  general  principles  must  be  few  in  number. 
The  law  is  uniform,  but  not  so  the  land  and  the  minds  and 
customs  of  those  who  dwell  in  it ;  and  the  administration  of 
the  law  is  the  art  of  carrying  it  out  in  such  a  manner  that  no 
injury  is  done  to  people's  interests.  Every  place  must  be 
considered  separately. 

"  On  the  other  side  of  the  mountain,  at  the  foot  of  which 
our  deserted  village  lies,  they  find  it  impossible  to  use  wheeled 
ploughs,  because  the  soil  is  not  deep  enough.  Now  if  the 
mayor  of  the  commune  were  to  take  it  into  his  head  to  follow 
in  our  footsteps,  he  would  be  the  ruin  of  his  neighborhood. 
I  advised  him  to  plant  vineyards;  they  had  a  capital  vintage 
last  year  in  the  little  district,  and  their  wine  is  exchanged  for 
our  corn. 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN  63 

"  Then,  lastly,  it  must  be  remembered  that  my  words  car- 
ried a  certain  weight  with  the  people  to  whom  I  preached, 
and  that  we  were  continually  brought  into  close  contact.     I 
cured  my  peasants'  complaints ;  an  easy  task,  for  a  nourishing 
diet  is,  as  a  rule,  all  that  is  needed  to  restore  them  to  health 
and  strength.    Either  through  thrift,  or  through  sheer  poverty, 
the  country  people  starve  themselves  ;  any  illness  among  them 
is  caused  in  this  way,  and  as  a  rule  they  enjoy  very  fair  health. 
*'  When  I  first  decided   to  devote   myself  to  this   life  of 
obscure  renunciation,  I  was  in  doubt  for  a  long  while  whether 
to  become  a  cure,  a  country  doctor,  or  a  justice  of  the  peace. 
It  is  not  without  reason  that  people  speak  collectively  of  the 
priest,  the  lawyer,  and  the  doctor  as  '  men  of  the  black  robe  ' 
— so  the  saying  goes.     The  first  heals  the  wounds  of  the  soul, 
the  second  those  of  the  purse,  and  the  third  those  of  the  body. 
They  represent  the  three  principal  elements  necessary  to  the 
existence  of  society — conscience,  property,  and  health.     At 
one  time  the  first,  and  at  a  later  period  the  second  was  all- 
important    in    the    state.       Our   predecessors    on    this   earth 
thought,   perhaps  not  without  reason,   that  the   priest,    who 
prescribed  what  men  should  think,  ought  to  be  paramount ; 
so  the  priest  was  king,  pontiff,  and  judge  in  one,  for  in  those 
days  belief  and   faith  were  everything.       All   this  has   been 
changed  in  our  day ;  and  we  must  even  take  our  epoch  as  we 
find  it.     But  I,  for  one,  believe  that  the  progress  of  civiliza- 
tion and  the  welfare  of  the  people  depend  on  these  three  men. 
They  are  the  three  powers  who  bring  home  to  the  people's 
minds  the  ways  in  which  facts,  interests,  and  principles  affect 
them.    They  themselves  are  three  great  results  produced  in  the 
midst  of  the  nation  by  the  operation  of  events,  by  the  owner- 
ship of  property,  and  by  the  growth  of  ideas.     Time  goes  on 
and  brings  changes  to  pass,  property  increases  or  diminishes 
in  men's  hands,  all  the  various  readjustments  have  to  be  duly 
regulated,  and  in  this  way  principles  of  social  order  are  estab- 
lished.    If  civilization  is  to  spread  itself,  and  production  is 


64  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

to  be  increased,  the  people  must  be  made  to  understand  the 
way  in  which  the  interests  of  the  individual  harmonize  with 
national  interests  which  resolve  themselves  into  facts,  interests, 
and  principles.  As  these  three  professions  are  bound  to  deal 
with  these  issues  of  human  life,  it  seemed  to  me  that  they 
must  be  the  most  powerful  civilizing  agencies  of  our  time. 
They  alone  afford  to  a  man  of  wealth  the  opportunity  of  miti- 
gating the  fate  of  the  poor,  with  whom  they  daily  bring  him 
in  contact. 

"  The  peasant  is  always  more  willing  to  listen  to  the  man 
who  lays  down  rules  for  saving  him  from  bodily  ills  than  to 
the  priest  who  exhorts  him  to  save  his  soul.  The  first  speaker 
can  talk  of  this  earth,  the  scene  of  the  peasant's  labors,  while 
the  priest  is  bound  to  talk  to  him  of  heaven,  with  which,  un- 
fortunately, the  peasant  nowadays  concerns  himself  very  little 
indeed ;  I  say  unfortunately,  because  the  doctrine  of  a  future 
life  is  not  only  a  consolation,  but  a  means  by  which  men  may 
be  governed.  Is  not  religion  the  one  power  that  sanctions 
social  laws  ?  We  have  but  lately  vindicated  the  existence  of 
God.  In  the  absence  of  a  religion,  the  government  was 
driven  to  invent  '  The  Terror,'  in  order  to  carry  its  laws  into 
effect ;  but  the  terror  was  the  fear  of  man,  and  it  has  passed 
away. 

"When  a  peasant  is  ill,  when  he  is  forced  to  lie  on  his 
pallet,  and  while  he  is  recovering,  he  cannot  help  himself,  he 
is  forced  to  listen  to  logical  reasoning,  which  he  can  under- 
stand quite  well  if  it  is  put  clearly  before  him.  This  thought 
made  a  doctor  of  me.  My  calculations  for  the  peasants  were 
made  along  with  them.  I  never  gave  advice  unless  I  was 
quite  sure  of  the  results,  and  in  this  way  compelled  them  to 
admit  the  wisdom  of  my  views.  The  people  require  infalli- 
bility. Infallibility  was  the  making  of  Napoleon  ;  he  would 
have  been  a  god  if  he  had  not  filled  the  world  with  the  sound 
of  his  fall  at  Waterloo.  If  Mahomet  founded  a  permanent 
religion  after  conquering  the  third  part  of  the  globe,  it  was  by 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  65 

dint  of  concealing  his  deathbed  from  the  crowd.  The  same 
rules  hold  good  for  the  great  conqueror  and  for  the  provincial 
mayor,  and  a  nation  or  a  commune  is  much  the  same  sort  of 
crowd  ;  indeed,  the  great  multitude  of  mankind  is  the  same 
everywhere. 

"I  have  been  exceedingly  firm  with  those  whom  I  have 
helped  with  money;  if  I  had  not  been  inflexible  on  this 
point,  they  all  would  have  laughed  at  me.  Peasants,  no  less 
than  worldlings,  end  by  despising  the  man  that  they  can  de- 
ceive. He  has  been  cheated.  Clearly,  then,  he  must  have 
been  weak  ;  and  it  is  might  alone  that  governs  the  world,  I 
have  never  charged  a  penny  for  my  professional  advice,  ex- 
cept to  those  who  were  evidently  rich  people ;  but  I  have  not 
allowed  the  value  of  my  services  to  be  overlooked  at  all, 
and  I  always  make  them  pay  for  medicine  unless  the  patient 
is  exceedingly  poor.  If  my  peasants  do  not  pay  me  in 
money,  they  are  quite  aware  that  they  are  in  my  debt ;  some- 
times they  satisfy  their  consciences  by  bringing  oats  for  my 
horses,  or  corn,  when  it  is  cheap.  But  if  the  miller  were  to 
send  me  some  eels  as  a  return  for  my  advice,  I  should  tell 
him  that  he  is  too  generous  for  such  a  small  matter.  My 
politeness  bears  fruit.  In  the  winter  I  shall  have  some  sacks 
of  flour  for  the  poor.  Ah  !  sir,  they  have  kind  hearts,  these 
people,  if  one  does  not  slight  them,  and  to-day  I  think  more 
good  and  less  evil  of  them  than  I  did  formerly." 

"What  a  deal  of  trouble  you  have  taken  !  "  said  Genestas. 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  Benassis.  "It  was  no  more 
trouble  to  say  something  useful  than  to  chatter  about  trifles  ; 
and  whether  I  chatted  or  joked,  the  talk  always  turned  on 
them  and  their  concerns  wherever  I  went.  They  would  not 
listen  to  me  at  first.  I  had  to  overcome  their  dislikes ;  I  be- 
longed to  the  middle  classes — that  is  to  say,  I  was  a  natural 
enemy.  I  found  the  struggle  amusing.  An  easy  or  an 
uneasy  conscience — that  is  all  the  difference  that  lies  between 
doing  well  or  ill ;  the  trouble  is  the  same  in  either  case.  If 
5 


66  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

scoundrels  would  but  behave  themselves  properly,  they  might 
be  millionaires  instead  of  being  hanged.     That  is  all." 

"  The  dinner  is  growing  cold,  sir  !  "  cried  Jacquotte,  in  the 
doorway. 

Genestas  caught  the  doctor's  arm. 

"I  have  only  one  comment  to  offer  on  what  I  have  just 
heard,"  he  remarked.  *'  I  am  not  acquainted  with  any 
account  of  the  wars  of  Mahomet,  so  that  I  can  form  no 
opinions  as  to  his  military  talents ;  but  if  you  had  only 
watched  the  Emperor's  tactics  during  the  campaign  in  France, 
you  might  well  have  taken  him  for  a  god  ;  and  if  he  was 
beaten  on  the  field  of  Waterloo,  it  was  because  he  was  more 
than  mortal,  it  was  because  the  earth  found  his  weight  too 
heavy  to  bear,  and  sprang  from  under  his  feet !  On  every 
other  subject  I  entirely  agree  with  you,  and  God's  thunder ! 
whoever  hatched  you  did  a  good  day's  work." 

"  Come,"  exclaimed  Benassis  with  a  smile,  "let  us  sit  down 
to  dinner." 

The  walls  of  the  dining-room  were  paneled  from  floor  to 
ceiling,  and  painted  gray.  The  furniture  consisted  of  a  few 
straw-bottomed  chairs,  a  sideboard,  some  cupboards,  a  stove, 
and  the  late  owner's  celebrated  clock ;  there  were  white 
curtains  in  the  window,  and  a  white  cloth  on  the  table,  about 
which  there  was  no  sign  of  luxury.  The  dinner  service  was 
of  plain  white  earthenware  ;  the  soup,  made  after  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  late  cure,  was  the  most  concentrated  kind  of  broth 
that  was  ever  set  to  simmer  by  any  mortal  cook.  The 
doctor  and  his  guest  had  scarcely  finished  it  when  a  man 
rushed  into  the  kitchen,  and,  in  spite  of  Jacquotte,  suddenly 
invaded  the  dining-room.  He  showed  evident  signs  of  agi- 
tation and  fright. 

"  Well,  what  is  it?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

"  It  is  this,  sir.  The  mistress,  our  Mme.  Vigneau,  has 
turned  as  white  as  white  can  be,  so  that  we  are  frightened 
about  her." 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE   AND    THE   MAN.  67 

"  Oh,  well,  then,"  Benassis  said  cheerfully,  "  I  must  leave 
the  table,"  and  he  rose  to  go. 

In  spite  of  the  doctor's  entreaties,  Genestas  flung  down  his 
table-napkin,  and  swore  in  soldierly  fashion  that  he  would  not 
finish  his  dinner  without  his  host.  He  returned  indeed  to  the 
salon ;  and  as  he  warmed  himself  by  the  fire,  he  thought  over 
the  troubles  that  no  man  may  escape,  the  troubles  that  are 
found  in  every  lot  that  it  falls  to  man  to  endure  here  upon 
earth. 

Benassis  soon  came  back,  and  the  two  future  friends  sat 
down  again. 

"  Taboureau  has  just  come  up  to  speak  to  you,"  said  Jac- 
quotte  to  her  master,  as  she  brought  in  the  dishes  that  she 
had  kept  hot  for  them. 

**  Who  can  be  ill  at  his  place?"  asked  the  doctor. 

**  No  one  is  ill,  sir.  I  think  from  what  he  said  that  it  is 
some  matter  of  his  own  that  he  wants  to  ask  you  about ; 
he  is  coming  back  again." 

"Very  good.  This  Taboureau,"  Benassis  went  on,  ad- 
dressing Genestas,  *'  is  for  me  a  whole  philosophical  treatise  ; 
take  a  good  look  at  him  when  he  comes,  he  is  sure  to 
amuse  you.  He  was  a  laborer,  a  thrifty  hard-working  man, 
eating  little  and  getting  through  a  great  deal  of  work.  As 
soon  as  the  rogue  came  to  have  a  few  crowns  of  his  own, 
his  intelligence  began  to  develop  ;  he  watched  the  progress 
which  I  had  originated  in  this  little  district  with  an  eye  to 
his  own  profit.  He  has  made  quite  a  fortune  in  eight 
years'  time;  that  is  to  say,  a  fortune  for  our  part  of  the 
world.  Very  likely  he  may  have  a  couple  of  score  thou- 
sand francs  by  now.  But  if  I  were  to  give  you  a  thousand 
guesses,  you  would  never  find  out  how  he  made  the  money. 
He  is  a  usurer,  and  his  scheme  of  usury  is  so  profoundly  and 
so  cleverly  based  upon  the  requirements  of  the  whole  canton 
that  I  should  merely  waste  my  time  if  I  were  to  take  it  upon 
myself  to  undeceive  them  as  to  the  benefits  which  they  reap, 


68  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

in  their  own  opinion,  from  their  dealings  with  Taboureau. 
When  this  devil  of  a  fellow  saw  every  one  cultivating  his  own 
plot  of  ground,  he  hurried  about  buying  grain  so  as  to  supply 
the  poor  with  the  requisite  seed.  Here,  as  everywhere  else, 
the  peasants  and  even  some  of  the  farmers  had  no  ready 
money  with  which  to  pay  for  seed.  To  some,  Master 
Taboureau  would  lend  a  sack  of  barley,  for  which  he  was  to 
receive  a  sack  of  rye  at  harvest-time,  and  to  others  a  measure 
of  wheat  for  a  sack  of  flour.  At  the  present  day  the  man  has 
extended  this  curious  business  of  his  all  over  the  department ; 
and  unless  something  happens  to  prevent  him,  he  will  go  on 
and  very  likely  make  a  million.  Well,  my  dear  sir,  Tabour- 
eau the  laborer,  an  obliging,  hard-working,  good-natured 
fellow,  used  to  lend  a  helping  hand  to  any  one  who  asked 
him  ;  but  as  his  gains  have  increased  Monsieur  Taboureau  has 
become  litigious,  arrogant,  and  somewhat  given  to  sharp  prac- 
tice. The  more  money  he  makes,  the  worse  he  grows.  The 
moment  that  the  peasant  forsakes  his  life  of  toil  pure  and  simple 
for  the  leisured  existence  of  the  landowning  classes,  he  becomes 
intolerable.  There  is  a  certain  kind  of  character,  partly  vir- 
tuous, partly  vicious,  half-educated,  half-ignorant,  which  will 
always  be  the  despair  of  governments.  You  will  see  an 
example  of  it  in  Taboureau.  He  looks  simple,  and  even 
doltish  ;  but  when  his  interests  are  in  question,  he  is  certainly 
profoundly  clever." 

A  heavy  footstep  announced  the  approach  of  the  grain 
lender. 

"  Come  in,  Taboureau  !  "  cried  Benassis. 

Thus  forewarned  by  the  doctor,  the  commandant  scrutin- 
ized the  peasant  in  the  doorway.  Taboureau  was  decidedly 
thin,  and  stooped  a  little.  He  had  a  bulging  forehead  cov- 
ered with  wrinkles,  and  a  cavernous  face,  in  which  two  small 
gray  eyes  with  a  dark  spot  in  either  of  them  seemed  to  be 
pierced  rather  than  set.  The  lines  of  the  miser's  mouth  were 
close  and  firm,  and  his  narrow  chin  turned  up  to  meet  an  ex- 


THE   COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  69 

aggeratedly  hooked  nose.  His  hair  was  turning  gray  already, 
and  deep  furrows  which  converged  above  the  prominent 
cheek-bones  spoke  of  the  wily  shrewdness  of  a  horse  dealer 
and  of  a  life  spent  in  journeying  about.  He  wore  a  blue  coat 
in  fairly  clean  condition,  the  square  side-pocket  flaps  stuck 
out  above  his  hips,  and  the  skirts  of  the  coats  hung  loose  in 
front,  so  that  a  white-flowered  waistcoat  was  visible.  There 
he  stood  firmly  planted  on  both  feet,  leaning  upon  a  thick 
stick  with  a  knob  at  the  end  of  it.  A  little  spaniel  had  fol- 
lowed the  grain  dealer,  in  spite  of  Jacquotte's  efforts,  and 
was  crouching  beside  him. 

"Well,  what  is  it !  "  Benassis  asked  as  he  turned  to  this 
being. 

Taboureau  gave  a  suspicious  glance  at  the  stranger  seated 
at  the  doctor's  table,  and  said — 

"It  is  not  a  case  of  illness,  M.  le  Maire,  but  you  under- 
stand how  to  doctor  the  ailments  of  the  purse  just  as  well  as 
those  of  the  body.  We  have  had  a  little  difficulty  with  a 
man  over  at  Saint  Laurent,  and  I  have  come  to  ask  your  ad- 
vice about  it." 

"  Why  not  see  the  justice  of  the  peace  or  his  clerk  ?  " 

"  Oh,  because  you  are  so  much  cleverer,  sir,  and  I  shall 
feel  more  sure  about  my  case  if  I  can  have  your  countenance." 

"  My  good  Taboureau,  I  am  willing  to  give  medical  advice 
to  the  poor  without  charging  for  it ;  but  I  cannot  look  into 
the  lawsuits  of  a  man  who  is  as  wealthy  as  you  are  for 
nothing.  It  costs  a  good  deal  to  acquire  that  kind  of  knowl- 
edge." 

Taboureau  began  to  twist  his  hat  about. 

"If  you  want  my  advice,  in  order  to  save  the  hard  coin 
you  would  have  to  pay  to  the  lawyer  folk  over  in  Grenoble, 
you  must  send  a  bag  of  rye  to  the  widow  Martin,  the  woman 
who  is  bringing  up  the  charity  children." 

*'  Dame  !  I  will  do  it  with  all  my  heart,  sir,  if  you  think 
it  necessary.     Can  I  talk  about  this  business  of  mine  without 


70  THE   C  0  UNTR  Y  DOC  TOR. 

troubling  the  gentleman  there?"  he  added,  with  a  look  at 
Genestas. 

The  doctor  nodded,  so  Taboureau  went  on. 

**  Well,  then,  sir,  two  months  ago  a  man  from  Saint  Laurent 
came  over  here  to  find  me.  'Taboureau,*  said  he  to  me, 
*  could  you  sell  me  a  hundred  and  thirty-seven  measures  of 
barley  ?  '  '  Why  not  ?  '  says  I,  '  that  is  my  trade.  Do  you 
want  it  immediately?'  'No,'  he  says,  'I  want  it  for  the 
beginning  of  spring,  in  March.'  So  far,  so  good.  Well,  we 
drive  our  bargain,  and  we  drink  a  glass,  and  we  agree  that  he 
is  to  pay  me  the  price  that  barley  fetched  at  Grenoble  last 
market-day,  and  I  am  to  deliver  it  in  March.  I  am  to  ware- 
house it  at  owner's  risk,  and  no  allowance  for  shrinkage,  of 
course.  But  barley  goes  up  and  up,  my  dear  sir ;  the  barley 
rises  like  boiling  milk.  Then  I  am  hard  up  for  money,  and 
I  sell  my  barley.     Quite  natural,  sir,  was  it  not  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Benassis,  "the  barley  had  passed  out  of  your 
possession,  and  you  were  only  warehousing  it.  And  suppose 
the  barley  had  gone  down  in  value,  would  you  not  have  com- 
pelled your  buyer  to  take  it  at  the  price  you  agreed  upon  ? ' ' 

"  But  very  likely  he  would  not  have  paid  me,  sir.  One 
must  look  out  for  oneself!  The  seller  ought  to  make  a  profit 
when  the  chance  comes  in  his  way ;  and,  after  all,  the  goods 
are  not  yours  until  you  have  paid  for  them.  That  is  so. 
Monsieur  I'Ofiicier,  is  it  not  ?  For  you  can  see  that  the  gen- 
tleman has  been  in  the  army." 

*'  Taboureau,"  Benassis  said  sternly,  "  ill  luck  will  come  to 
you.  Sooner  or  later  God  punishes  ill  deeds.  How  can  you, 
knowing  as  much  as  you  do,  a  capable  man,  moreover,  and  a 
man  who  conducts  his  business  honorably,  set  examples  of 
dishonesty  to  the  canton  ?  If  you  allow  such  proceedings  as 
this  to  be  taken  against  you,  how  can  you  expect  that  the  poor 
will  remain  honest  people  and  will  not  rob  you  ?  Your 
laborers  will  cheat  you  out  of  part  of  their  working  hours, 
and  every  one  here  will   be  demoralized.     You  are  in  the 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  71 

wrong.  Your  barley  was  as  good  as  delivered;  If  the  man 
from  Saint  Laurent  had  fetched  it  himself,  you  would  not  have 
gone  there  to  take  it  away  from  him  ;  you  have  sold  some- 
thing that  was  no  longer  yours  to  sell,  for  your  barley  had 
already  been  turned  into  money  which  was  to  be  paid  down 
at  the  stipulated  time.     But  go  on." 

Genestas  gave  the  doctor  a  significant  glance,  to  call  his 
attention  to  Taboureau's  impassive  countenance.  Not  a  muscle 
had  stirred  in  the  usurer's  face  during  this  reprimand;  there 
was  no  flush  on  his  forehead,  and  no  sign  of  emotion  in  his 
little  eyes. 

'*  Well,  sir,  I  am  called  upon  to  supply  the  barley  at  last 
winter's  price.  Now  /  consider  that  I  am  not  bound  to 
do  so." 

**  Look  here,  Taboureau,  deliver  that  barley  and  be  very 
quick  about  it,  or  make  up  your  mind  to  be  respected  by  no- 
body in  future.  Even  if  you  gained  the  day  in  a  case  like 
this,  you  would  be  looked  upon  as  an  unscrupulous  man  who 
does  not  keep  to  his  word,  and  is  not  bound  by  promises,  or 
by  honor,  or " 

"Go  on,  there  is  nothing  to  be  afraid  of;  tell  me  that  I 
am  a  scamp,  a  scoundrel,  a  thief  outright.  You  can  say 
things  like  that  in  business  without  insulting  anybody,  M.  le 
Maire.  'Tis  each  for  himself  in  business,  you  know,"  coolly 
responded  Taboureau. 

"  Well,  then,  why  deliberately  put  yourself  in  a  position  in 
which  you  deserve  to  be  called  by  such  names  ?  ' ' 

**  But  if  the  law  is  on  my  side,  sir?" 

"  But  the  law  will  certainly  not  be  on  your  side." 

"Are  you  quite  sure  about  it,  sir?  Certain  sure?  For 
you  see  it  is  an  important  matter." 

"  Certainly  I  am.  Quite  sure.  If  I  were  not  at  dinner,  I 
would  have  down  the  code,  and  you  should  see  for  yourself. 
If  the  case  comes  on,  you  will  lose  it,  and  you  will  never  set 
foot  in  my  house  again,  for  I  do  not  wish  to  receive  people 


72  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

whom  I  do  not  respect.  Do  you  understand  ?  You  will 
lose  your  case." 

"  Oh  !  no,  not  at  all,  I  shall  not  lose  it,  sir,"  said  Tabour- 
eau.  "  You  see,  sir,  it  is  this  way :  it  is  the  man  from  Saint 
Laurent  who  owes  me  the  barley ;  I  bought  it  of  him,  and 
now  he  refuses  to  deliver  it.  I  just  wanted  to  make  quite  cer- 
tain that  I  should  gain  my  case  before  going  to  any  expense 
at  the  court  about  it." 

Genestas  and  the  doctor  exchanged  glances ;  each  con- 
cealed his  amazement  at  the  ingenious  device  by  which  the 
man  sought  to  learn  the  truth  about  this  point  of  law. 

"  Very  well,  Taboureau,  your  man  is  a  swindler ;  you  should 
not  make  bargains  with  such  people." 

"Ah  !  sir,  they  understand  business,  those  people  do." 

"  Good-bye,  Taboureau." 

"  Your  servant,  gentlemen." 

"Well,  now,"  remarked  Benassis,  when  the  usurer  had 
gone,  "  if  that  fellow  were  in  Paris,  do  you  not  think  that  he 
would  be  a  millionaire  before  very  long?  " 

After  dinner,  the  doctor  and  his  visitor  went  back  to  the 
salon,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  evening  until  bedtime  they  talked 
about  war  and  politics ;  Genestas  evincing  a  most  violent  dis- 
like of  the  English  in  the  course  of  conversation. 

"  May  I  know  whom  I  have  the  honor  of  entertaining  as  a 
guest  ?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

"  My  name  is  Pierre  Bluteau,"  answered  Genestas;  "  I  am 
a  captain  stationed  at  Grenoble." 

"  Very  well,  sir.  Do  you  care  to  adopt  M.  Gravier's  plan  ? 
In  the  morning  after  breakfast  he  liked  to  go  on  my  rounds 
with  me.  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  you  will  find  anything  to 
interest  you  in  the  things  that  occupy  me — they  are  so  very 
commonplace.  For,  after  all,  you  own  no  land  about  here, 
nor  are  you  the  mayor  of  the  place,  and  you  will  see  noth- 
ing in  the  canton  that  you  cannot  see  elsewhere ;  one 
thatched  cottage  is  just  like  another.     Still  you  will  be  in  the 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE   MAN.  73 

open  air,  and  you  will  have  something  to  take  you  out  of 
doors." 

**  No  proposal  could  give  me  more  pleasure.  I  did  not 
venture  to  make  it  myself,  lest  I  should  thrust  myself  upon 
you." 

Commandant  Genestas  (who  shall  keep  his  own  name  in 
spite  of  the  fictitious  appellation  which  he  had  thought  fit  to 
give  himself)  followed  his  host  to  a  room  on  the  first  floor 
above  the  salon. 

"That  is  right,"  said  Benassis,  "  Jacquotte  has  lighted  a 
fire  for  you.  If  you  want  anything,  there  is  a  bell-pull  close 
to  the  head  of  the  bed." 

*'  I  am  not  likely  to  want  anything,  however  small,  it  seems 
to  me,"  exclaimed  Genestas.  "There  is  even  a  bootjack. 
Only  an  old  trooper  knows  what  a  bootjack  is  worth  ?  There  are 
times,  when  one  is  out  on  a  campaign,  sir,  when  one  is  ready 
to  burn  down  a  house  to  come  by  a  knave  of  a  bootjack. 
After  a  few  marches,  one  on  the  top  of  another,  or,  above  all, 
after  an  engagement,  there  are  times  when  a  swollen  foot  and 
the  soaked  leather  will  not  part  company,  pull  as  you  will ;  I 
have  had  to  lie  down  in  my  boots  more  than  once.  One  can 
put  up  with  the  annoyance  so  long  as  one  is  by  oneseif." 

The  commandant's  wink  gave  a  kind  of  profound  slyness  to 
his  last  utterance  ;  then  he  began  to  make  a  survey.  Not 
without  surprise,  he  saw  that  the  room  was  neatly  kept,  com- 
fortable, and  almost  luxurious. 

"What  splendor,"  was  his  comment.  "  Your  own  room 
must  be  something  wonderful." 

"  Come  and  see,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  am  your  neighbor, 
there  is  nothing  but  the  staircase  between  us." 

Genestas  was  again  surprised  when  he  entered  the  doctor's 
room,  a  bare-looking  apartment  with  no  adornment  on  the 
walls  save  an  old-fashioned  wall  paper  of  a  yellowish  tint  with 
a  pattern  of  brown  roses  over  it ;  the  color  had  gone  in  patches 
here  and  there.     There  was  a  roughly-painted  iron  bedstead, 


74  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

two  gray  cotton  curtains  were  suspended  from  a  wooden  bracket 
above  it,  and  a  threadbare  strip  of  carpet  lay  at  the  foot ;  it 
was  like  a  bed  in  a  hospital.  By  the  bed-head  stood  a  rickety 
cupboard  on  four  feet  with  a  door  that  continually  rattled  with 
a  sound  like  castanets.  Three  chairs  and  a  couple  of  straw- 
bottomed  armchairs  stood  about  the  room,  and  on  a  low  chest 
of  drawers  in  walnut  wood  stood  a  basin,  and  an  ewer  of  obsolete 
pattern  with  a  lid,  which  was  kept  in  place  by  a  leaden  rim 
round  the  top  of  the  vessel.  This  completed  the  list  of  the 
furniture. 

The  grate  was  empty.  All  the  apparatus  required  for  shav- 
ing lay  about  in  front  of  an  old  mirror  suspended  above  the 
painted  stone  chimney-piece  by  a  bit  of  string.  The  floor 
was  clean  and  carefully  swept,  but  it  was  worn  and  splintered 
in  various  places,  and  there  were  hollows  in  it  here  and  there. 
Gray  cotton  curtains  bordered  with  a  green  fringe  adorned 
the  two  windows.  The  scrupulous  cleanliness  maintained  by 
Jacquotte  gave  a  certain  air  of  distinction  to  this  picture  of 
simplicity,  but  everything  in  it,  down  to  the  round  table 
littered  with  stray  papers,  and  the  very  pens  on  the  writing 
desk,  gave  the  idea  of  an  almost  monastic  life — a  life  so 
wholly  filled  with  thought  and  feeling  of  a  wider  kind  that 
outward  surroundings  had  come  to  be  matters  of  no  moment. 
An  open  door  allowed  the  commandant  to  see  a  smaller  room, 
which  doubtless  the  doctor  seldom  occupied.  It  was  scarcely 
kept  in  the  same  condition  as  the  adjoining  apartment ;  a  few 
dusty  books  lay  strewn  about  over  the  no  less  dusty  shelves, 
and  from  the  rows  of  labeled  bottles  it  was  easy  to  guess 
that  the  place  was  devoted  rather  to  the  dispensing  of  drugs 
than  to  scientific  studies. 

"Why  this  difference  between  your  room  and  mine,  you 
will  ask?"  said  Benassis.  "Listen  a  moment.  I  have 
always  blushed  for  those  who  put  their  guests  in  the  attics, 
who  furnish  them  with  mirrors  that  distort  everything  to  such 
a  degree  that  any  one  beholding  himself  might  think  that  he 


THE    COUNTRYSIDE  AND    THE  MAN.  75 

was  smaller  or  larger  than  nature  made  him,  or  suffering  from 
an  apoplectic  stroke  or  some  other  bad  complaint.  Ought 
we  not  to  do  our  utmost  to  make  a  room  as  pleasant  as  pos- 
sible during  the  time  that  our  friend  can  be  with  us  ?  Hospi- 
tality, to  my  thinking,  is  a  virtue,  a  pleasure,  and  a  luxury ; 
but  in  whatever  light  it  is  considered,  nay,  even  if  you 
regard  it  as  a  speculation,  ought  not  our  guest  or  our  friend  to 
be  made  much  of?  Ought  not  every  refinement  of  luxury  to 
be  reserved  for  him  ? 

"  So  the  best  furniture  is  put  into  your  room,  where  a  thick 
carpet  is  laid  down  ;  there  are  hangings  on  the  walls,  and  a 
clock  and  wax  candles ;  and  for  you  Jacquotte  will  do  her 
best,  she  has  no  doubt  brought  a  night-light,  and  a  pair  of 
new  slippers  and  some  milk,  and  her  warming-pan  too  for 
your  benefit.  I  hope  that  you  will  find  that  luxurious  arm- 
chair the  most  comfortable  seat  you  have  ever  sat  in,  it  was  a 
discovery  of  the  late  cure's ;  I  do  not  know  where  he  found 
it,  but  it  is  a  fact  that  if  you  wish  to  meet  with  the  perfection 
of  comfort,  beauty,  or  convenience,  you  must  ask  counsel  of 
the  Church.  Well,  I  hope  that  you  will  find  everything  in 
your  room  to  your  liking.  You  will  find  some  good  razors 
and  excellent  soap,  and  all  the  trifling  details  that  make  one's 
own  home  so  pleasant.  And  if  my  views  on  the  subject  of 
hospitality  should  not  at  once  explain  the  difference  between 
your  room  and  mine,  to-morrow,  M.  Bluteau,  you  will  arrive 
at  a  wonderfully  clear  comprehension  of  the  bareness  of  my 
room  and  the  untidy  condition  of  my  study,  when  you  see  all 
the  continual  comings  and  goings  here.  Mine  is  not  an 
indoor  life,  to  begin  with.  I  am  almost  always  out  of  the 
house,  and,  if  I  stay  at  home,  peasants  come  in  at  every 
moment  to  speak  to  me.  My  body  and  soul  and  house  are  all 
theirs.  Why  should  I  worry  about  social  conventions  in 
these  matters,  or  trouble  myself  over  the  damage  uninten- 
tionally done  to  floors  and  furniture  by  these  worthy  folk? 
Such  things  cannot  be  helped.     Luxury  properly  belongs  to 


76 


THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 


the  boudoir  and  the  guest-chamber,  to  great  houses  and  cha- 
teaux. In  short,  as  I  scarcely  do  more  than  sleep  here,  what 
do  I  want  with  the  superfluities  of  wealth?  You  do  not 
know,  moreover,  how  little  I  care  for  anything  in  this  world." 
They  wished  each  other  a  friendly  good-night  with  a  warm 
shake  of  the  hand,  and  went  to  bed.  But  before  the  com- 
mandant slept,  he  came  to  more  than  one  conclusion  as  to 
the  man  who  hour  by  hour  grew  greater  in  his  eyes. 


n. 

A  DOCTOR'S  ROUND. 

The  first  thing  next  morning  Genestas  went  to  the  stable, 
drawn  thither  by  the  affection  that  every  man  feels  for  the 
horse  that  he  rides.  NicoUe's  method  of  rubbing  down  the 
animal  was  quite  satisfactory. 

"Up  already,  Commandant  Bluteau?"  cried  Benassis,  as 
he  came  upon  his  guest.  "You  hear  the  drum  beat  in  the 
morning  wherever  you  go,  even  in  this  country  !  You  are  a 
regular  soldier  I ' ' 

**Are  you  all  right?"  replied  Genestas,  holding  out  his 
hand  with  a  friendly  gesture. 

"  I  am  never  really  all  right,"  answered  Benassis,  half-mer- 
rily,  half-sadly. 

**  Did  you  sleep  well,  sir?  "  inquired  Jacquotte. 

'*  Faith,  yes,  my  beauty ;  the  bed  as  you  made  it  was  fit  for 
a  queen." 

Jacquotte's  face  beamed  as  she  followed  her  master  and  his 
guest,  and  when  she  had  seen  them  seat  themselves  at  table, 
she  remarked  to  Nicolle — 

**  He  is  not  a  bad  sort,  after  all,  that  officer  gentleman." 

**  I  am  sure  he  is  not,  he  has  given  me  two  francs  already." 

**  We  will  begin  to-day  by  calling  at  two  places  where  there 
have  been  deaths,"  Benassis  said  to  his  visitor  as  they  left  the 
dining-room.  "Although  doctors  seldom  deign  to  confront 
their  supposed  victims,  I  will  take  you  round  to  the  two 
houses,  where  you  will  be  able  to  make  some  interesting  ob- 
servations of  human  nature ;  and  the  scenes  to  which  you 
will  be  a  witness  will  show  you  that  in  the  expression  of  their 
feelings  our  folk  among  the  hills  differ  greatly  from  the 
dwellers  in  the  lowlands.     Up  among  the  mountain  peaks  in 

(77) 


78  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

our  canton  they  cling  to  customs  that  bear  the  impress  of  an 
older  time,  and  that  vaguely  recall  scenes  in  the  Bible.  Na- 
ture has  traced  out  a  line  over  our  mountain  ranges ;  the 
whole  appearance  of  the  country  is  different  on  either  side  of 
it.  You  find  strength  of  character  up  above,  flexibility  and 
quickness  of  perception  below ;  they  have  larger  ways  of  re- 
garding things  among  the  hills,  while  the  bent  of  the  lowlands 
is  always  towards  the  material  interests  of  existence.  I  have 
never  seen  a  difference  so  strongly  marked,  unless  it  has  been 
in  the  Val  d'Ajou,  where  the  northern  side  is  peopled  by  a 
tribe  of  idiots,  and  the  southern  by  an  intelligent  race. 
There  is  nothing  but  a  stream  in  the  valley  bottom  to  separate 
these  two  populations,  which  are  utterly  dissimilar  in  every 
respect,  as  different  in  face  and  stature  as  in  manners,  customs 
and  occupation.  A  fact  of  this  kind  should  compel  those  who 
govern  a  country  to  make  very  extensive  studies  of  local  dif- 
ferences before  passing  laws  that  are  to  affect  the  great  mass 
of  the  people.     But  the  horses  are  ready,  let  us  start !  " 

In  a  short  time  the  two  horsemen  reached  a  house  in  a  part 
of  the  township  that  was  overlooked  by  the  mountains  of  the 
Grande  Chartreuse.  Before  the  door  of  the  dwelling,  which 
was  fairly  clean  and  tidy,  they  saw  a  coffin,  set  upon  two 
chairs,  and  covered  with  a  black  pall.  Four  tall  candles 
stood  about  it,  and  on  a  stool  near  by  there  was  a  shallow 
brass  dish  full  of  holy  water,  in  which  a  branch  of  green  box- 
wood was  steeping.  Every  passer-by  went  into  the  yard, 
knelt  by  the  side  of  the  dead,  said  a  Paternoster,  and  sprinkled 
a  few  drops  of  holy  water  on  the  bier.  Above  the  black  cloth 
that  covered  the  coffin  rose  the  green  sprays  of  a  jessamine 
that  grew  beside  the  doorway,  and  a  twisted  vine-shoot, 
already  in  leaf,  overran  the  lintel.  Even  the  saddest  ceremo- 
nies demand  that  things  shall  appear  to  the  best  advantage, 
and  in  obedience  to  this  vaguely-felt  requirement  a  young  girl 
had  been  sweeping  the  front  of  the  house.  The  dead  man's 
eldest  son,  a  young  peasant  about  twenty-two  years  of  age, 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  79 

Stood  motionless,  leaning  against  the  door-post.  The  tears 
in  his  eyes  came  and  went  without  falling,  or  perhaps  he  fur- 
tively brushed  them  away.  Benassis  and  Genestas  saw  all  the 
details  of  this  scene  as  they  stood  beyond  the  low  wall ;  they 
fastened  their  horses  to  one  of  the  row  of  poplar  trees  that 
grew  along  it,  and  entered  the  yard  just  as  the  widow  came 
out  of  the  byre.  A  woman  carrying  a  jug  of  milk  was  with 
her,  and  spoke. 

"Try  to  bear  up  bravely,  my  poor  Pelletier,"  she  said. 

"  Ah  !  my  dear,  after  twenty-five  years  of  life  together,  it  is 
very  hard  to  lose  your  man,"  and  her  eyes  brimmed  over  with 
tears.  "Will  you  pay  the  two  sous?"  she  added  after  a 
moment,  as  she  held  out  her  hand  to  her  neighbor. 

"  There  now !  I  had  forgotten  about  it,"  said  the  other 
woman,  giving  her  the  coin.  "  Come,  neighbor,  don't  take 
on  so.     Ah  !  there  is  M.  Benassis  !  " 

"  Well,  poor  mother,  how  are  you  going  on  ?  A  little 
better  ? ' '  asked  the  doctor. 

"Well  !  "  she  said,  as  the  tears  fell  fast,  "  we  must  go  on, 
all  the  same,  that  is  certain.  I  tell  myself  that  my  man  is  out 
of  pain  now.  He  suffered  so  terribly  !  But  come  inside,  sir. 
Jacques,  set  some  chairs  for  these  gentlemen.  Come,  stir 
yourself  a  bit.  Lord  bless  you  !  if  you  were  to  stop  there  for 
a  century,  it  would  not  bring  your  poor  father  back  again. 
And  now,  you  will  have  to  do  the  work  of  two." 

"No,  no,  good  woman,  leave  your  son  alone,  we  will  not 
sit  down.  You  have  a  boy  there  who  will  take  care  of  you, 
and  who  is  quite  fit  to  take  his  father's  place." 

"Go  and  change  your  clothes,  Jacques,"  cried  the  widow; 
"  you  will  be  wanted  directly." 

"Well,  good-bye,  mother,"  said  Benassis. 

"Your  servant,  gentlemen." 

"  Here,  you  see,  death  is  looked  upon  as  an  event  for  which 
every  one  is  prepared,"  said  the  doctor;  "  it  brings  no  inter- 
ruption to  the  course  of  family  life,  and  they  will  not  even 


80  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

wear  mourning  of  any  kind.  No  one  cares  to  be  at  the  ex- 
pense of  it ;  they  are  all  either  too  poor  or  too  parsimonious 
in  the  villages  hereabouts,  so  that  mourning  is  unknown  in 
country  districts.  Yet  the  custom  of  wearing  mourning  is 
something  better  than  a  law  or  a  usage,  it  is  an  institution 
somewhat  akin  to  all  moral  obligations.  But  in  spite  of  our 
endeavors,  neither  M.  Janvier  nor  I  have  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing our  peasants  understand  the  great  importance  of  public 
demonstrations  of  feeling  for  the  maintenance  of  social  order. 
These  good  folk,  who  have  only  just  begun  to  think  and  act 
for  themselves,  are  slow  as  yet  to  grasp  the  changed  condi- 
tions which  should  attach  them  to  these  theories.  They  have 
only  reached  those  ideas  which  conduce  to  economy  and 
physical  welfare ;  in  the  future,  if  some  one  else  carries  on 
this  work  of  mine,  they  will  come  to  understand  the  principles 
that  serve  to  uphold  and  preserve  public  order  and  justice. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  not  sufficient  to  be  an  honest  man, 
you  must  appear  to  be  honest  in  the  eyes  of  others.  Society 
does  not  live  by  moral  ideas  alone ;  its  existence  depends 
upon  actions  in  harmony  with  those  ideas. 

**  In  most  country  communes,  out  of  a  hundred  families 
deprived  by  death  of  their  head,  there  are  only  a  few  indi- 
viduals capable  of  feeling  more  keenly  than  the  others,  who 
will  remember  the  death  for  very  long ;  in  a  year's  time  the 
rest  will  have  forgotten  all  about  it.  Is  not  this  forgetfulness 
a  sore  evil?  A  religion  is  the  very  heart  of  a  nation  ;  it  ex- 
presses their  feelings  and  their  thoughts,  and  exalts  them  by 
giving  them  an  object ;  but  unless  outward  and  visible  honor 
is  paid  to  a  God,  religion  cannot  exist ;  and,  as  a  conse- 
quence, human  ordinances  lose  all  their  force.  If  the  con- 
science belongs  to  God  and  to  Him  only,  the  body  is  amen- 
able to  social  law.  Is  it  not,  therefore,  a  first  step  towards 
atheism  to  eflFace  every  sign  of  pious  sorrow  in  this  way,  to 
neglect  to  impress  on  children  who  are  not  yet  old  enough  to 
reflect,  and  on  all  other  people  who  stand  in  need  of  example, 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  81 

the  necessity  of  obedience  to  human  law,  by  openly  manifested 
resignation  to  the  will  of  Providence,  who  chastens  and  con- 
soles, who  bestows  and  takes  away  worldly  wealth  ?  I  confess 
that,  after  passing  through  a  period  of  sneering  incredulity,  I 
have  come  during  my  life  here  to  recognize  the  value  of  the 
rites  of  religion  and  of  religious  observances  in  the  family, 
and  to  discern  the  importance  of  household  customs  and 
domestic  festivals.  The  family  will  always  be  the  basis  of 
human  society.  Law  and  authority  are  first  felt  there ;  there, 
at  any  rate,  the  habit  of  obedience  should  be  learned.  Viewed 
in  the  light  of  all  their  consequences,  the  spirit  of  the  family 
and  paternal  authority  are  two  elements  but  little  developed 
as  yet  in  our  new  legislative  system.  Yet  in  the  family,  the 
commune,  the  department,  lies  the  whole  of  our  country. 
The  laws  ought  therefore  to  be  based  on  these  three  great 
divisions. 

"  In  my  opinion,  marriages,  the  birth  of  infants,  and  the 
deaths  of  heads  of  households  cannot  be  surrounded  with  too 
much  circumstance.  The  secret  of  the  strength  of  Cathol- 
icism, and  of  the  deep  root  that  it  has  taken  in  the  ordinary 
life  of  man,  lies  precisely  in  this — that  it  steps  in  to  invest 
every  important  event  in  his  existence  with  a  pomp  that  is  so 
naively  touching,  and  so  grand,  whenever  the  priest  rises  to 
the  height  of  his  mission  and  brings  his  office  into  harmony 
with  the  sublimity  of  Christian  doctrine. 

"  Once  I  looked  upon  the  Catholic  religion  as  a  cleverly 
exploited  mass  of  prejudices  and  superstitions,  which  an 
intelligent  civilization  ought  to  deal  with  according  to  its 
deserts.  Here  I  have  discovered  its  political  necessity  and 
its  usefulness  as  a  moral  agent ;  here,  moreover,  I  have  come 
to  understand  its  power,  through  a  knowledge  of  the  actual 
thing  which  the  word  expresses.  Religion  means  a  bond  or 
tie,  and  certainly  a  cult — or,  in  other  words,  the  outward  and 
visible  form  of  religion  is  the  only  force  that  can  bind  the 
various  elements  of  society  together  and  mould  them  into  a 
6 


82  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

permanent  form.  Lastly,  it  was  also  here  that  I  have  felt  the 
soothing  influence  that  religion  sheds  over  the  wounds  of 
humanity,  and  (without  going  further  into  the  subject)  I  have 
seen  how  admirably  it  is  suited  to  the  fervid  temperaments  of 
southern  races. 

"Let  us  take  the  road  up  the  hillside,"  said  the  doctor, 
interrupting  himself;  "we  must  reach  the  plateau  up  there. 
Thence  we  shall  look  down  upon  both  valleys,  and  you  will  see 
a  magnificent  view.  The  plateau  lies  three  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  Mediterranean ;  we  shall  see  over 
Savoy  and  Dauphine,  and  the  mountain  ranges  of  the  Lyon- 
nais  and  Rhone.  We  shall  be  in  another  commune,  a  hill 
commune,  and  on  a  farm  belonging  to  M.  Gravier  you  will 
see  the  kind  of  scene  of  which  I  have  spoken.  There  the 
great  events  of  life  are  invested  with  a  solemnity  which  comes 
up  to  my  ideas.  Mourning  for  the  dead  is  rigorously  pre- 
scribed. Poor  people  will  beg  in  order  to  purchase  black 
clothing,  and  no  one  refuses  to  give  in  such  a  case.  There 
are  few  days  in  which  the  widow  does  not  mention  her  loss ; 
she  always  speaks  of  it  with  tears,  and  her  grief  is  as  deep 
after  ten  days  of  sorrow  as  on  the  morning  after  her  bereave- 
ment. Manners  are  patriarchal ;  the  father's  authority  is 
unlimited,  his  word  is  law.  He  takes  his  meals  sitting  by 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  table  ;  his  wife  and  children  wait 
upon  him,  and  those  about  him  never  address  him  without 
using  certain  respectful  forms  of  speech,  while  every  one 
remains  standing  and  uncovered  in  his  presence.  Men 
brought  up  in  this  atmosphere  are  conscious  of  their  dignity ; 
to  my  way  of  thinking,  it  is  a  noble  education  to  be  brought 
up  among  these  customs.  And,  for  the  most  part,  they  are 
upright,  thrifty,  and  hard-working  people  in  this  commune. 
The  father  of  every  family,  when  he  is  old  and  past  work, 
divides  his  property  equally  among  his  children,  and  they 
support  him ;  that  is  the  usual  way  here.  An  old  man  of 
ninety,  in  the  last  century,  who  had  divided  everything  he 


A    DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  83 

had  among  his  four  children,  went  to  live  with  each  one  in 
turn  for  three  months  in  the  year.  As  he  left  the  oldest  to  go 
to  the  home  of  a  younger  brother,  one  of  his  friends  asked 
him,  'Well,  are  you  satisfied  with  the  arrangement?  '  'Faith! 
yes,'  the  old  man  answered  ;  '  they  have  treated  me  as  if  I  had 
been  their  own  child.'  That  answer  of  his  seemed  so  remark- 
able to  an  officer  then  stationed  at  Grenoble,  that  he  repeated 
it  in  more  than  one  Parisian  salon.  That  officer  was  the 
celebrated  moralist  Vauvenargues,  and  in  this  way  the  beauti- 
ful saying  came  to  the  knowledge  of  another  writer  named 
Chamfort.  Ah  !  still  more  forcible  phrases  are  often  struck 
out  among  us,  but  they  lack  a  historian  worthy  of  them,"  con- 
cluded Benassis. 

"I  have  come  across  Moravians  and  Lollards  in  Bohemia 
and  Hungary,"  said  Genestas.  "  They  are  a  kind  of  people 
something  like  your  mountaineers,  good  folk  who  endure  tlie 
sufferings  of  war  with  angelic  patience." 

"  Men  living  under  simple  and  natural  conditions  are 
bound  to  be  almost  alike  in  all  countries.  Sincerity  of  life 
takes  but  one  form.  It  is  true  that  a  country  life  often 
extinguishes  thought  of  a  wider  kind  ;  but  evil  propensities 
are  weakened  and  good  qualities  are  developed  by  it.  In 
fact,  the  fewer  the  numbers  of  the  human  beings  collected 
together  in  a  place,  the  less  crime,  evil  thinking,  and  general 
bad  behavior  will  be  found  in  it.  A  pure  atmosphere  counts 
for  a  good  deal  in  purity  of  morals." 

The  two  horsemen,  who  had  been  climbing  the  stony  road 
at  a  foot  pace,  now  reached  the  level  space  of  which  Benassis 
had  spoken.  It  is  a  strip  of  land  lying  round  about  the  base 
of  a  lofty  mountain  peak,  a  bare  surface  of  rock  with  no 
growth  of  any  kind  upon  it ;  deep  clefts  are  riven  in  its  sheer 
inaccessible  sides.  The  gray  crest  of  the  summit  towers  above 
the  ledge  of  fertile  soil  which  lies  around  it,  a  domain  some- 
times narrower,  sometimes  wider,  and  altogether  about  a 
hundred  acres  in  extent.     Here,  through  a  vast  break  in  the 


84  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

line  of  the  hills  to  the  south,  the  eye  sees  French  Maurienne, 
Dauphine,  the  crags  of  Savoy,  and  the  far-off  mountains  of 
the  Lyonnais.  Genestas  was  gazing  from  this  point,  over  a 
land  that  lay  far  and  wide  in  the  spring  sunlight,  when  there 
arose  the  sound  of  a  wailing  cry. 

"Let  us  go  on,"  said  Benassis  ;  "  the  wail  of  the  dead  has 
begun,  that  is  the  name  they  give  to  this  part  of  the  funeral 
rites." 

On  the  western  slope  of  the  mountain  peak,  the  commandant 
saw  the  buildings  belonging  to  a  farm  of  some  size.  The 
whole  place  formed  a  perfect  square.  The  gateway  consisted 
of  a  granite  arch,  impressive  in  its  solidity,  which  added  to 
the  old-world  appearance  of  the  buildings  with  the  ancient 
trees  that  stood  about  them,  and  the  growth  of  plant  life  on 
the  roofs.  The  house  itself  lay  at  the  farther  end  of  the  yard. 
Barns,  sheepfolds,  stables,  cowsheds,  and  other  buildings  lay 
on  either  side,  and  in  the  midst  was  the  great  pool  where  the 
manure  had  been  laid  to  rot.  On  a  thriving  farm,  such  a  yard 
as  this  is  usually  full  of  life  and  movement,  but  to-day  it  was 
silent  and  deserted.  The  poultry  were  shut  up,  the  cattle 
were  all  in  the  byres,  there  was  scarcely  a  sound  of  animal  life. 
Both  stables  and  cowsheds  had  been  carefully  locked,  and  a 
clean  path  to  the  house  had  been  swept  across  the  yard.  The 
perfect  neatness  which  reigned  in  a  place  where  everything  as 
a  rule  was  in  disorder,  the  absence  of  stirring  life,  the  still- 
ness in  so  noisy  a  spot,  the  calm  serenity  of  the  hills,  the  deep 
shadow  cast  by  the  towering  peak — everything  combined  to 
make  a  strong  impression  on  the  mind. 

Genestas  was  accustomed  to  painful  scenes,  yet  he  could  not 
help  shuddering  as  he  saw  a  dozen  men  and  women  standing 
weeping  outside  the  door  of  the  great  hall.  ^^The  master  is 
dead!^^  they  wailed;  the  unison  of  voices  gave  appalling 
effect  to  the  words  which  they  repeated  twice  during  the  time 
required  to  cross  the  space  between  the  gateway  and  the  farm- 
house door.     To  this  wailing  lament  succeeded  moans  from 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  86 

within  the  house ;  the  sound  of  a  woman's  voice  came  through 
the  casements. 

"I  dare  not  intrude  upon  such  grief  as  this,"  said  Genestas 
to  Benassis. 

"I  always  go  to  visit  a  bereaved  family,"  the  doctor 
answered,  "either  to  certify  the  death,  or  to  see  that  no  mis- 
chance caused  by  grief  has  befallen  the  living.  You  need  not 
hesitate  to  come  with  me.  The  scene  is  impressive,  and  there 
will  be  such  a  great  many  people  that  no  one  will  notice  your 
presence." 

As  Genestas  followed  the  doctor,  he  found,  in  fact,  that  the 
first  room  was  full  of  relations  of  the  dead.  They  passed 
through  the  crowd  and  stationed  themselves  at  the  door  of  a 
bedroom  that  opened  out  of  the  great  hall  which  served  the 
whole  family  for  a  kitchen  and  a  sitting-room ;  the  whole 
colony,  it  should  rather  be  called,  for  the  great  length  of  the 
table  showed  that  some  forty  people  lived  in  the  house.  Be- 
nassis' arrival  interrupted  the  discourse  of  a  tall,  simply-dressed 
woman,  with  thin  locks  of  hair,  who  held  the  dead  man's 
hand  in  hers  in  a  way  that  spoke  eloquently. 

The  dead  master  of  the  house  had  been  arrayed  in  his  best 
clothes,  and  now  lay  stretched  out  cold  and  stiff  upon  the  bed. 
They  had  drawn  the  curtains  aside ;  the  thought  of  heaven 
seemed  to  brood  over  the  quiet  face  and  the  white  hair — it 
was  like  the  closing  scene  of  a  drama.  On  either  side  of  the 
bed  stood  the  children  and  the  nearest  relations  of  the  husband 
and  wife.  These  last  stood  in  a  line  on  either  side ;  the  wife's 
kin  upon  the  left,  and  those  of  her  husband  on  the  right. 
Both  men  and  women  were  kneeling  in  prayer,  and  almost  all 
of  them  were  in  tears.  Tall  candles  stood  about  the  bed.  The 
cur6  of  the  parish  and  his  assistants  had  taken  their  places  in 
the  middle  of  the  room,  beside  the  bier.  There  was  some- 
thing tragical  about  the  scene,  with  the  head  of  the  family 
lying  before  the  coffin,  which  was  waiting  to  be  closed  down 
upon  him  for  ever. 


86  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"Ah!"  cried  the  widow,  turning  as  she  saw  Benassis,  "if 
the  skill  of  the  best  of  men  could  not  save  you,  my  dear  lord, 
it  was  because  it  was  ordained  in  heaven  that  you  should  pre- 
cede me  to  the  tomb !  Yes,  this  hand  of  yours,  that  used  to 
press  mine  so  kindly,  is  cold  !  I  have  lost  my  dear  helpmate 
forever,  and  our  household  has  lost  its  beloved  head,  for  truly 
you  were  the  guide  of  us  all !  Alas  !  there  is  not  one  of  those 
who  is  weeping  with  me  who  has  not  known  all  the  worth 
of  your  nature,  and  felt  the  light  of  your  soul,  but  I  alone 
knew  all  the  patience  and  the  kindness  of  your  heart.  Oh  ! 
my  husband,  my  husband  !  must  I  bid  you  farewell  for  ever? 
Farewell  to  you,  our  stay  and  support !  Farewell  to  you, 
my  dear  master !  And  we,  your  children,  for  to  each  of  us 
you  gave  the  same  fatherly  love,  all  we,  your  children,  have 
lost  our  father  ! ' ' 

The  widow  flung  herself  upon  the  dead  body  and  clasped  it 
in  a  tight  embrace,  as  if  her  kisses  and  the  tears  with  which 
she  covered  it  could  give  it  warmth  again ;  during  the  pause, 
came  the  wail  of  the  servants — 

''The  master  is  dead!'' 

"  Yes,"  the  widow  went  on,  "  he  is  dead !  Our  beloved  who 
gave  us  our  bread,  who  sowed  and  reaped  for  us,  who  watched 
over  our  happiness,  who  guided  us  through  life,  who  ruled  so 
kindly  among  us.  JV^aw  I  may  speak  in  his  praise,  and  say 
that  he  never  caused  me  the  slightest  sorrow ;  he  was  good 
and  strong  and  patient.  Even  while  we  were  torturing  him 
for  the  sake  of  his  health,  so  precious  to  us,  '  Let  it  be,  chil- 
dren, it  is  all  no  use,'  the  dear  lamb  said,  just  in  the  same 
tone  of  voice  with  which  he  had  said,  '  Everything  is  all  right, 
friends,'  only  a  few  days  before.  Ah  !  grand  Dieu  !  a  few 
days  ago !  A  few  days  have  been  enough  to  take  away  the 
gladness  from  our  house  and  to  darken  our  lives,  to  close  the 
eyes  of  the  best,  most  upright,  most  revered  of  men.  No  one 
could  plough  as  he  could.  Night  or  day  he  would  go  about 
over  the  mountains,  he  feared  nothing,  and  when  he  came 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  87 

back  he  had  always  a  smile  for  his  wife  and  children.  Ah ! 
he  was  our  best  beloved  !  It  was  dull  here  by  the  fireside 
when  he  was  away,  and  our  food  lost  all  its  relish.  Oh  !  how 
will  it  be  now,  when  our  guardian  angel  will  be  laid  away 
under  the  earth,  and  we  shall  never  see  him  any  more  ?  Never 
any  more,  dear  kinsfolk  and  friends;  never  any  more,  my 
children  !  Yes,  my  children  have  lost  their  kind  father,  our 
relations  and  friends  have  lost  their  good  kinsman  and  their 
trusty  friend,  the  household  has  lost  its  master,  and  I  have  lost 
everything  that  made  life  sweet  to  me — a  kind  husband,  com- 
panion and  helpmate  !  " 

She  took  the  hand  of  the  dead  again,  and  knelt,  so  that  she 
might  press  her  face  close  to  his  as  she  kissed  it.  The  ser- 
vants' cry,  "  The  master  is  dead  f  was  again  repeated  three 
times. 

Just  then  the  eldest  son  came  to  his  mother  to  say,  "  The 
people  from  Saint  Laurent  have  just  come,  mother ;  we  want 
some  wine  for  them." 

"Take  the  keys,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone,  and  in  a  different 
voice  from  that  in  which  she  had  just  expressed  her  grief  j 
**  you  are  the  master  of  the  house,  my  son  ;  see  that  they  re- 
ceive the  welcome  that  your  father  would  have  given  them  ;  do 
not  let  them  find  any  change." 

"Let  me  have  one  more  long  look,"  she  went  on.  "  But, 
alas!  my  good  husband,  you  do  not  feel  my  presence  now,  I 
cannot  bring  back  warmth  to  you  !  I  only  wish  that  I  could 
comfort  you  still,  and  let  you  know  that  so  long  as  I  live  you 
will  dwell  in  the  heart  that  you  made  glad,  could  tell  you 
that  I  shall  be  happy  in  the  memory  of  my  liappiness — that 
the  dear  thought  of  you  will  live  on  in  this  room.  Yes,  so 
long  as  God  spares  me,  this  room  shall  be  filled  with  memories 
of  you.  Hear  my  vow,  dear  husband  !  Your  couch  shall 
always  remain  as  it  is  now.  I  will  sleep  in  it  no  more,  since 
you  are  dead ;  henceforward,  while  I  live,  it  shall  be  cold  and 
empty.     With  you,  I  have  lost  all  that  makes  a  woman ;  her 


88  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

master,  husband,  father,  friend,  companion,  and  helpmate ;  I 
have  lost  all !" 

"  The  master  is  dead  J  "  the  servants  wailed.  Others  raised 
the  cry,  and  the  lament  became  general.  The  widow  took  a 
pair  of  scissors  that  hung  at  her  waist,  cut  off  her  hair,  and 
laid  the  locks  in  her  husband's  hand.  Deep  silence  fell  on 
them  all. 

"That  act  means  that  she  will  not  marry  again,"  said 
Benassis  ;  **  this  determination  was  expected  by  many  of  the 
relatives." 

"Take  it,  dear  lord  !  "  she  said;  her  emotion  brought  a 
tremor  to  her  voice  that  went  to  the  hearts  of  all  who  heard 
her.  "  I  have  sworn  to  be  faithful ;  I  give  this  pledge  to  you 
to  keep  in  the  grave.  We  shall  thus  be  united  for  ever,  and 
through  love  of  your  children  I  will  live  on  among  the  family 
in  whom  you  used  to  feel  yourself  young  again.  Oh  !  that 
you  could  hear  me,  my  husband !  the  pride  and  joy  of  my 
heart !  Oh,  that  you  could  know  that  all  my  power  to  live, 
now  you  are  dead,  will  yet  come  from  you  ;  for  I  shall  live  to 
carry  out  your  sacred  wishes  and  to  honor  your  memory." 

Benassis  pressed  Genestas'  hand  as  an  invitation  to  follow 
him,  and  they  went  out.  By  this  time  the  first  room  was  full 
of  people  who  had  come  from  another  mountain  commune ; 
all  of  them  waited  in  meditative  silence,  as  if  the  sorrow  and 
grief  that  brooded  over  the  house  had  already  taken  possession 
of  them.  As  Benassis  and  the  commandant  crossed  the 
threshold,  they  overheard  a  few  words  that  passed  between 
one  of  the  newcomers  and  the  eldest  son  of  the  late  owner. 

**  Then  when  did  he  die  ?  " 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  eldest  son,  a  man  of  five-and- 
twenty  years  of  age,  "  I  did  not  see  him  die.  He  asked  for 
me,  and  I  was  not  there  !  "  His  voice  was  broken  with  sobs, 
but  he  went  on  :  "  He  said  to  me  the  night  before,  '  You  must 
go  over  to  the  town,  my  boy,  and  pay  our  taxes ;  my  funeral 
will  put  that  out  of  your  minds,  and  we  shall  be  behindhand, 


A    DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  89 

a  thing  that  has  never  happened  before.'  It  seemed  the  best 
thing  to  do,  so  I  went ;  and  while  I  was  gone  he  died,  and  I 
never  received  his  last  embrace.  I  have  always  been  at  his 
side,  but  he  did  not  see  me  near  him  at  the  last  in  my  place 
where  I  had  always  been." 

"The  master  is  dead /  " 

"Alas  !  he  is  dead,  and  I  was  not  there  to  receive  his  last 
words  and  his  latest  sigh.  And  what  did  the  taxes  matter? 
Would  it  not  have  been  better  to  lose  all  our  money  than  to 
leave  home  just  then  ?  Could  all  that  we  have  make  up  to 
me  for  the  loss  of  his  last  farewell  ?  No.  Mon  Dieu  !  If 
your  father  falls  ill,  Jean,  do  not  go  away  and  leave  him,  or 
you  will  lay  up  a  lifelong  regret  for  yourself." 

"My  friend,"  said  Genestas,  "I  have  seen  thousands  of 
men  die  on  the  battlefield ;  death  did  not  wait  to  let  their 
children  bid  them  farewell ;  take  comfort,  you  are  not  the 
only  one." 

"But  a  father  who  was  such  a  good  man!"  he  replied, 
bursting  into  fresh  tears. 

Benassis  took  Genestas  in  the  direction  of  the  farm 
buildings. 

"  The  funeral  oration  will  only  cease  when  the  body  has 
been  laid  in  its  coffin,"  said  the  doctor,  "  and  the  weeping 
woman's  language  will  grow  more  vivid  and  impassioned  all 
the  while.  But  a  woman  only  acquires  the  right  to  speak  in 
such  a  strain  before  so  imposing  an  audience  by  a  blameless 
life.  If  the  widow  could  reproach  herself  with  the  smallest 
of  shortcomings,  she  would  not  dare  to  utter  a  word ;  for  if 
she  did,  she  would  pronounce  her  own  condemnation,  she 
would  be  at  the  same  time  her  own  accuser  and  judge.  Is 
there  not  something  sublime  in  this  custom  which  thus  judges 
the  living  and  the  dead  ?  They  only  begin  to  wear  mourning 
after  a  week  has  elapsed,  when  it  is  publicly  worn  at  a  meet- 
ing of  all  the  family.  Their  near  relations  spend  the  week 
with  the  widow  and  children,  to  help  them  to  set  their  affairs 


90  THE  COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

in  order  and  to  console  them.  A  family  gathering  at  such  a 
time  produces  a  great  effect  on  the  minds  of  the  mourners ; 
the  consideration  for  others  which  possesses  men  when  they 
are  brought  into  close  contact  acts  as  a  restraint  on  violent 
grief.  On  the  last  day,  when  the  mourning  garb  has  been 
assumed,  a  solemn  banquet  is  given,  and  their  relations  take 
leave  of  them.  All  this  is  taken  very  seriously.  Any  one 
who  was  slack  in  fulfilling  his  duties  after  the  death  of  the 
head  of  a  family  would  have  no  one  at  his  own  funeral." 

The  doctor  had  reached  the  cowhouse  as  he  spoke;  he 
opened  the  door  and  made  the  commandant  enter,  that  he 
might  show  it  to  him. 

"All  our  cowhouses  have  been  rebuilt  after  this  pattern, 
captain.     Look  !     Is  it  not  magnificent  ?  " 

Genestas  could  not  help  admiring  the  huge  place.  The 
cows  and  oxen  stood  in  two  rows,  with  their  tails  towards  the 
side  walls  and  their  heads  in  the  middle  of  the  shed.  Access 
to  the  stalls  was  afforded  by  a  fairly  wide  space  between  thera 
and  the  wall ;  you  could  see  their  horned  heads  and  shining 
eyes  through  the  lattice  work,  so  that  it  was  easy  for  the  mas- 
ter to  run  his  eyes  over  the  cattle.  The  fodder  was  placed 
on  some  staging  erected  above  the  stalls,  so  that  it  fell  into 
the  racks  below  without  waste  of  labor  or  material.  There 
was  a  wide-paved  space  down  the  centre,  which  was  kept 
clean,  and  ventilated  by  a  thorough  draught  of  air. 

"In  the  winter-time,"  Benassis  said,  as  he  walked  with 
Genestas  down  the  middle  of  the  cowhouse,  "  both  men  and 
women  do  their  work  here  together  in  the  evenings.  The 
tables  are  set  out  here,  and  in  this  way  the  people  keep  them- 
selves warm  without  going  to  any  expense.  The  sheep  are 
housed  in  the  same  way.  You  would  not  believe  how  quickly 
the  beasts  fall  into  orderly  ways.  I  have  often  wondered  to 
see  them  come  in  ;  each  knows  her  proper  place,  and  allows 
those  who  take  precedence  to  pass  in  before  her.  Look! 
there  is  just  room  enough  in  each  stall  to  do  the  milking  and 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  91 

to  rub  the  cattle  down  ;  and  the  floor  slopes  a  little  to  facili- 
tate drainage." 

'*  One  can  judge  of  everything  else  from  the  sight  of  this 
cowhouse,"  said  Genestasj  "without  flattery,  these  are  great 
results  indeed  !  ' ' 

"  We  have  had  some  trouble  to  bring  them  about,"  Benas- 
sis  answered  ;   "but  then,  see  what  fine  cattle  they  are  !  " 

"  They  are  splendid  beasts  certainly ;  you  had  good  reason 
to  praise  them  to  me,"  answered  Genestas. 

"Now,"  said  the  doctor,  when  he  had  mounted  his  horse 
and  passed  under  the  gateway,  "  we  are  going  over  some  of 
the  newly-cleared  waste,  and  through  the  corn  land.  I  have 
christened  this  little  corner  of  our  commune,  '  La  Beauce.'  " 

For  about  an  hour  they  rode  at  a  foot  pace  across  fields  in 
a  state  of  high  cultivation,  on  which  the  soldier  complimented 
the  doctor ;  then  they  came  down  the  mountain  side  into  the 
township  again,  talking  whenever  the  pace  of  their  horses 
allowed  them  to  do  so.  At  last  they  reached  a  narrow  glen, 
down  which  they  rode  into  the  main  valley. 

"I  promised  yesterday,"  Benassis  said  to  Genestas,  "to 
show  you  one  of  the  two  soldiers  who  left  the  army  and  came 
back  to  us  after  the  fall  of  Napoleon.  We  shall  find  him 
somewhere  hereabouts,  if  I  am  not  mistaken.  The  mountain 
streams  flow  into  a  sort  of  natural  reservoir  or  tarn  up  here ; 
the  earth  they  bring  down  has  silted  it  up,  and  he  is  engaged 
in  clearing  it  out.  But  if  you  are  to  take  any  interest  in  the 
man,  I  must  tell  you  his  history.  His  name  is  Gondrin.  He 
was  only  eighteen  years  old  when  he  was  drawn  in  the  great 
conscription  of  1792,  and  drafted  into  a  corps  of  gunners. 
He  served  as  a  private  soldier  in  Napoleon's  campaigns  in 
Italy,  followed  him  to  Egypt,  and  came  back  from  the  East 
after  the  Peace  of  Amiens.  In  the  time  of  the  empire  he  was 
incorporated  in  the  pontoon  troop  of  the  Guard,  and  was 
constantly  on  active  service  in  Germany,  lastly  the  poor 
fellpw  made  the  Russian  campaign." 


92  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"We  are  brothers-in-arms  then,  to  some  extent,"  said 
Genestas  ;  "  I  have  made  the  same  campaigns.  Only  an  iron 
frame  could  stand  the  tricks  played  by  so  many  different 
climates.  My  word  for  it,  those  who  are  still  standing  on 
their  stumps  after  marching  over  Italy,  Egypt,  Germany, 
Portugal,  and  Russia  must  have  applied  to  Providence  and 
taken  out  a  patent  for  living." 

"  Just  so,  you  will  see  a  solid  fragment  of  a  man,"  answered 
Benassis.  "You  know  all  about  the  retreat  from  Moscow; 
it  is  useless  to  tell  you  about  it.  This  man  I  have  told  you  of 
is  one  of  the  pontooneers  of  the  Beresina ;  he  helped  to  con- 
struct the  bridge  by  which  the  army  made  the  passage,  and 
stood  waist-deep  in  water  to  drive  in  the  first  piles.  General 
Eble,  who  was  in  command  of  the  pontooneers,  could  only 
find  forty-two  men  who  were  plucky  enough,  in  Gondrin's 
phrase,  to  tackle  that  business.  The  general  himself  came 
down  to  the  stream  to  hearten  and  cheer  the  men,  promising 
each  of  them  a  pension  of  a  thousand  francs  and  the  Cross 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  The  first  who  went  down  into  the 
Beresina  had  his  leg  taken  off  by  a  block  of  ice,  and  the  man 
himself  was  washed  away;  but  you  will  better  understand  the 
difficulty  of  the  task  when  you  hear  the  end  of  the  story.  Of 
the  forty-two  volunteers,  Gondrin  is  the  only  one  alive  to- 
day. Thirty-nine  of  them  lost  their  lives  in  the  Beresina, 
and  the  two  others  died  miserably  in  a  Polish  hospital. 

"  The  poor  fellow  himself  only  returned  from  Wilna  in 
1814,  to  find  the  Bourbons  restored  to  power.  General 
Eble  (of  whom  Gondrin  cannot  speak  without  tears  in  his 
eyes)  was  dead.  The  pontooneer  was  deaf,  and  his  health 
was  shattered;  and  as  he  could  neither  read  nor  write,  he 
found  no  one  left  to  help  him  or  to  plead  his  cause.  He 
begged  his  way  to  Paris,  and  while  there  made  application  at 
the  War  Office,  not  for  the  thousand  francs  of  extra  pension 
which  had  been  promised  to  him,  nor  yet  for  the  *  Cross  of 
the  Legion  of  Honor,'  but  only  for  the  bare  pension  due  to 


A  DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  93 

him  after  twenty-two  years  of  service,  and  I  do  not  know 
how  many  campaigns.  He  did  not  obtain  his  pension  or  his 
traveling  expenses ;  he  did  not  even  receive  his  arrears  of 
pay.  He  spent  a  year  in  making  fruitless  solicitations,  hold- 
ing out  his  hands  in  vain  to  those  whom  he  had  saved ;  and 
at  the  end  of  it  he  came  back  here,  sorely  disheartened  but 
resigned  to  his  fate.  This  hero  unknown  to  fame  does  drain- 
ing work  on  the  land,  for  which  he  is  paid  ten  sous  the 
fathom.  He  is  accustomed  to  working  in  a  marshy  soil,  and 
so,  as  he  says,  he  gets  jobs  which  no  one  else  cares  to  take. 
He  can  make  about  three  francs  a  day  by  clearing  out  ponds, 
or  draining  meadows  that  lie  under  water.  His  deafness 
makes  him  seem  surly,  and  he  is  not  naturally  inclined  to  say 
very  much,  but  there  is  a  good  deal  in  him. 

'*  We  are  very  good  friends.  He  dines  with  me  on  the 
day  of  Austerlitz,  on  the  Emperor's  birthday,  and  on  the 
anniversary  of  the  disaster  at  Waterloo,  and  during  the  dessert 
he  always  receives  a  napoleon  to  pay  for  his  wine  every 
quarter.  Every  one  in  the  commune  shares  in  my  feeling 
of  respect  for  him ;  if  he  would  allow  them  to  support 
him,  nothing  would  please  them  better.  At  every  house  to 
which  he  goes  the  people  follow  my  example,  and  show  their 
esteem  by  asking  him  to  dine  with  them.  It  is  a  feeling  of 
pride  that  leads  him  to  work,  and  it  is  only  as  a  portrait  of 
the  Emperor  that  he  can  be  induced  to  take  my  twenty-franc 
piece.  He  has  been  deeply  wounded  by  the  injustice  that 
has  been  done  him  ;  but  I  think  regret  for  the  *  Cross '  is 
greater  than  the  desire  for  his  pension. 

*'  He  has  one  great  consolation.  After  the  bridges  had 
been  constructed  across  the  Beresina,  General  Eble  presented 
such  of  the  pontooneers  as  were  not  disabled  to  the  Emperor,  and 
Napoleon  embraced  poor  Gondrin — perhaps  but  for  that  em- 
brace he  would  have  died  ere  now.  This  memory  and  the  hope 
that  some  day  Napoleon  will  return  are  all  that  Gondrin  lives 
by.     Nothing  will  ever  persuade  him  that  Napoleon  is  dead. 


94  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

and  so  convinced  is  he  that  the  Emperor's  captivity  is  wholly 
and  solely  due  to  the  English,  that  I  believe  he  would  be 
ready  on  the  slightest  pretext  to  take  the  life  of  the  best- 
natured  alderman  that  ever  traveled  for  pleasure  in  foreign 
parts." 

"  Let  us  go  on  as  fast  as  possible,"  cried  Genestas.  He  had 
listened  to  the  doctor's  story  with  rapt  attention,  and  now 
seemed  to  recover  consciousness  of  his  surroundings.  "Let 
us  hurry  !     I  long  to  see  that  man  !" 

Both  of  them  put  their  horses  to  a  gallop. 

"The  other  soldier  that  I  spoke  of,"  Benassis  went  on,  ** is 
another  of  those  men  of  iron  who  have  knocked  about  every- 
where with  our  armies.  His  life,  like  that  of  all  French  soldiers, 
has  been  made  up  of  bullets,  sabre  strokes,  and  victories ;  he 
has  had  a  very  rough  time  of  it,  and  has  only  worn  the  woolen 
epaulettes-  He  has  a  fanatical  affection  for  Napoleon,  who 
conferred  the  *  Cross '  upon  him  on  the  field  of  Valontina. 
He  is  of  a  jovial  turn  of  mind,  and  like  a  genuine  Dauphi- 
nois,  has  always  looked  after  his  own  interests,  has  his  pension, 
and  the  honors  of  the  Legion.  Goguelat  is  his  name.  He 
was  an  infantry  man,  who  exchanged  into  the  Guard  in  1812 
He  is  Gondrin's  better  half,  so  to  speak,  for  the  two  have 
taken  up  house  together.  They  both  lodge  with  a  peddler's 
widow,  and  make  over  their  money  to  her.  She  is  a  kind 
soul,  who  boards  them  and  looks  after  them  and  their  clothes 
as  if  they  were  her  children. 

**  In  his  quality  of  local  postman,  Goguelat  carries  all  the 
news  of  the  countryside,  and  a  good  deal  of  practice  acquired 
in  this  way  has  made  him  an  orator  in  great  request  at  up- 
sittings,  and  the  champion  teller  of  stories  in  the  district. 
Gondrin  looks  upon  him  as  a  very  knowing  fellow,  and  some- 
thing of  a  wit ;  and  whenever  Goguelat  talks  about  Napoleon, 
his  comrade  seems  to  understand  what  he  is  saying  from  the 
movement  of  his  lips.  There  will  be  an  up-sitting  (as  they 
call  it)  in  one  of  my  barns  to-night.     If  these  two  come  over 


A   DOCTOR'S   ROUND.  95 

to  it,  and  we  can  manage  to  see  without  being  seen,  I  shall 
treat  you  to  a  view  of  the  spectacle.  But  here  we  are,  close 
to  the  ditch,  and  I  do  not  see  my  friend  the  pontooneer." 

The  doctor  and  the  commandant  looked  everywhere  about 
them ;  Gondrin's  soldier's  coat  lay  there  beside  a  heap  of 
black  mud,  and  his  wheelbarrow,  spade,  and  pickaxe  were 
visible,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  the  man  himself  along  the 
various  pebbly  watercourses,  for  the  wayward  mountain  streams 
had  hollowed  out  channels  that  were  almost  overgrown  with 
low  bushes. 

"  He  cannot  be  so  very  far  away.  Gondrin  !  Where  are 
you?"  shouted  Benassis. 

Genestas  first  saw  the  curling  smoke  from  a  tobacco  pipe 
rise  among  the  brushwood  on  a  bank  of  rubbish  not  far  away. 
He  pointed  it  out  to  the  doctor,  who  shouted  again.  The  old 
pontooneer  raised  his  head  at  this,  recognized  the  mayor,  and 
came  towards  them  down  a  little  pathway. 

"  Well,  old  friend,"  said  Benassis,  making  a  sort  of  speak- 
ing-trumpet with  his  hand.  "Here  is  a  comrade  of  yours, 
who  was  out  in  Egypt,  come  to  see  you." 

Gondrin  raised  his  face  at  once  and  gave  Genestas  a  swift, 
keen,  and  searching  look,  one  of  those  glances  by  which  old 
soldiers  are  wont  at  once  to  take  the  measure  of  any  impend- 
ing danger.  He  saw  the  red  ribbon  that  the  commandant 
wore,  and  made  a  silent  and  respectful  military  salute. 

"  If  the  little  corporal  were  alive,"  the  officer  cried,  "  you 
would  have  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  and  a  handsome 
pension  besides,  for  every  man  who  wore  epaulettes  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river  owed  his  life  to  you  on  the  ist  of  Oc- 
tober, 1812.  But  I  am  not  the  minister  of  war,  my  friend," 
the  commandant  added  as  he  dismounted,  and  with  a  sudden 
rush  of  feeling  he  grasped  the  laborer's  hand. 

The  old  pontooneer  drew  himself  up  at  the  words,  he 
knocked  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

"I  ^nly  did  my  duty,  sir,"  he  said,  with  his  head  bent 


90  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

down  ;  "  but  others  have  not  done  their  duty  by  me.  They 
asked  for  my  papers  !  Why,  the  Twenty-ninth  Bulletin,  I 
told  them,  must  do  instead  of  my  papers  ! ' ' 

*'  But  you  must  make  another  application,  comrade.  You 
are  bound  to  have  justice  done  you  in  these  days,  if  influence 
is  brought  to  bear  in  the  right  quarter." 

"Justice  !  "  cried  the  veteran.  The  doctor  and  the  com- 
mandant shuddered  at  the  tone  in  which  he  spoke. 

In  the  brief  pause  that  followed,  both  the  horsemen  looked 
at  the  man  before  them,  who  seemed  like  a  fragment  of  the 
wreck  of  great  armies  which  Napoleon  had  filled  with  men  of 
bronze  sought  out  from  among  three  generations.  Gondrin 
was  certainly  a  splendid  specimen  of  that  seemingly  indestruc- 
tible mass  of  men  which  might  be  cut  to  pieces  but  never  gave 
way.  The  old  man  was  scarcely  five  feet  high,  wide  across 
the  shoulders,  and  broad-chested ;  his  face  was  sun-burned, 
furrowed  with  deep  wrinkles,  but  the  outlines  were  still  firm 
in  spite  of  the  hollows  in  it,  and  one  could  see  even  now  that 
it  was  the  face  of  a  soldier.  It  was  a  rough-hewn  countenance; 
his  forehead  seemed  like  a  block  of  granite  ;  but  there  was  a 
weary  expression  about  his  face,  and  the  gray  hairs  hung  scan- 
tily about  his  head,  as  if  life  were  waning  there  already. 
Everything  about  him  indicated  unusual  strength  ;  his  arms 
were  covered  thickly  with  hair,  and  so  was  the  chest,  which 
was  visible  through  the  opening  of  his  coarse  shirt.  In  spite 
of  his  almost  crooked  legs,  he  held  himself  firm  and  erect,  as 
if  nothing  could  shake  him. 

"  Justice,"  he  said  once  more ;  "  there  never  will  be  justice 
for  the  like  of  us.  We  cannot  send  bailiffs  to  the  government 
to  demand  our  dues  for  us ;  and  as  the  wallet  must  be  filled 
somehow,"  he  said,  striking  his  stomach,  we  cannot  aff"ord  to 
wait.  Moreover,  these  gentry  who  lead  snug  lives  in  govern- 
ment offices  may  talk  and  talk,  but  their  words  are  not  good 
to  eat,  so  I  have  come  back  again  here  to  draw  my  pay  out  of 
the  commonalty,"  he  said,  striking  the  mud  with  his  spade. 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  97 

"Things  must  not  be  left  in  that  way,  old  comrade,"  said 
Genestas.  *'  I  owe  my  life  to  you,  and  it  would  be  ungrateful 
of  me  if  I  did  not  lend  you  a  hand.  I  have  not  forgotten  the 
passage  over  the  bridges  in  the  Beresina,  and  it  is  fresh  in  the 
memories  of  some  brave  fellows  of  my  acquaintance ;  they 
will  back  me  up,  and  the  nation  shall  give  you  the  recognition 
you  deserve. ' ' 

"  You  will  be  called  a  Bonapartist  !  Please  do  not  meddle 
in  the  matter,  sir.  I  have  gone  to  the  rear  now,  and  I  have 
dropped  into  my  hole  here  like  a  spent  bullet.  But  after 
riding  on  camels  through  the  desert,  and  drinking  my  glass  by 
the  fireside  in  Moscow,  I  never  thought  that  I  should  come 
back  to  die'  here  beneath  the  trees  that  my  father  planted," 
and  he  began  to  work  again. 

"Poor  old  man!"  said  Genestas,  as  they  turned  to  go. 
"  I  should  do  the  same  if  I  were  in  his  place ;  we  have  lost  our 
father.  Everything  seems  dark  to  me  now  that  I  have  seen 
that  man's  hopelessness,"  he  went  on,  addressing  Benassis; 
"  he  does  not  know  how  much  I  am  interested  in  him,  and  he 
will  think  that  I  am  one  of  those  gilded  rascals  who  cannot 
feel  for  a  soldier's  sufferings." 

He  turned  quickly  and  went  back,  grasped  the  veteran's 
hand,  and  spoke  loudly  in  his  ear — 

*'  I  swear  by  the  cross  I  wear — the  cross  of  honor  it  used  to 
be — that  I  will  do  all  that  man  can  do  to  obtain  your  pension 
for  you ;  even  if  I  have  to  swallow  a  dozen  refusals  from  the 
minister,  and  to  petition  the  King  and  the  Dauphin  and  the 
whole  shop !  " 

Old  Gondrin  quivered  as  he  heard  the  words.  He  looked 
hard  at  Genestas  and  said,  "  Haven't  you  served  in  the 
ranks?"  The  commandant  nodded.  The  pontooneer  wiped 
his  hand  and  took  that  of  Genestas,  which  he  grasped  warmly 
and  said — 

**  I  made  the  army  a  present  of  my  life,  general,  when  I 
waded  out  into  the  river  yonder,  and  if  I  am  still  alive,  it  is 
7 


^  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

all  so  much  to  the  good.  One  moment !  Do  you  care  to  see 
to  the  bottom  of  it?  Well,  then,  ever  since  somebody  was 
pulled  down  from  his  place,  I  have  ceased  to  care  about  any- 
thing. And,  after  all,"  he  went  on  more  cheerfully,  as  he 
pointed  to  the  land,  '*  they  have  made  over  twenty  thousand 
francs  to  me  here,  and  I  am  taking  it  out  in  detail,  as  he  used 
to  say  !  " 

"  Well,  then,  comrade,"  said  Genestas,  touched  by  the 
grandeur  of  this  forgiveness,"  at  least  you  shall  have  the  only 
thing  that  you  cannot  prevent  me  from  giving  to  you,  here 
below."  The  commandant  tapped  his  heart,  looked  once 
more  at  the  old  pontooneer,  mounted  his  horse  again,  and 
went  his  way  side  by  side  with  Benassis,  deeply  impressed 
with  the  injustice  done  to  his  old  comrade. 

**  Such  cruelty  as  this  on  the  part  of  a  government  foments 
the  strife  between  rich  and  poor,"  said  the  doctor.  "People 
who  exercise  a  little  brief  authority  have  never  given  a  serious 
thought  to  the  consequences  that  must  follow  an  act  of 
injustice  done  to  a  man  of  the  people.  It  is  true  that  a  poor 
man  who  needs  must  work  for  his  daily  bread  cannot  long 
keep  up  the  struggle  ;  but  he  can  talk,  and  his  words  find  an 
echo  in  every  sufferer's  heart,  so  that  one  bad  case  of  this 
kind  is  multiplied,  for  every  one  who  hears  of  it  feels  it  as  a 
personal  wrong,  and  the  leaven  works.  Even  this  is  not  so 
serious,  but  something  far  worse  comes  of  it.  Among  the 
people,  these  cases  of  injustice  bring  about  a  chronic  state  of 
smothered  hatred  for  their  social  superiors.  The  middle  class 
becomes  the  poor  man's  enemy  ;  they  lie  without  the  bounds 
of  his  moral  code,  he  tells  lies  to  them  and  robs  them  without 
scruple  ;  indeed,  theft  ceases  to  be  a  crime  or  a  misdemeanor, 
and  is  looked  upon  as  an  act  of  vengeance. 

"  When  an  official,  who  ought  to  see  that  the  poor  have 
justice  done  them,  uses  them  ill  and  cheats  them  of  their  due, 
how  can  we  expect  the  poor  starving  wretches  to  bear  their 
troubles  meekly  and  to  respect  the  rights  of  property  ?     It 


AN     OLD     LABORER    MAKING     HIS     WAY    ALONG     THE     ROAD     IN 
COMPANY    WITH     AN    AGED    WOMAN. 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  99 

makes  me  shudder  to  think  that  some  understrapper,  whose 
business  it  is  to  dust  papers  in  a  government  office,  has 
pocketed  Gondrin's  promised  thousand  francs  of  pension. 
And  yet  there  are  folk  who,  never  having  measured  the  excess 
of  the  people's  sufferings,  accuse  the  people  of  excess  in  the 
day  of  their  vengeance  !  When  a  government  has  done  more 
harm  than  good  to  individuals,  its  further  existence  depends 
on  the  merest  accident,  the  masses  square  the  account  after 
their  fashion  by  upsetting  it.  A  statesman  ought  always  to 
imagine  Justice  with  the  poor  at  her  feet,  for  justice  was  only 
invented  for  the  poor." 

When  they  had  come  within  the  compass  of  the  township 
Benassis  saw  two  persons  walking  along  the  road  in  front  of 
them,  and  turned  to  his  companion,  who  had  been  absorbed 
for  some  time  in  thought. 

**  You  have  seen  a  veteran  soldier  resigned  to  his  life  of 
wretchedness,  and  now  you  are  about  to  see  an  old  agricultural 
laborer  who  is  submitting  to  the  same  lot.  The  man  there 
ahead  of  us  has  dug  and  sown  and  toiled  for  others  all  his  life." 

Genestas  looked  and  saw  an  old  laborer  making  his  way 
along  the  road,  in  company  with  an  aged  woman.  He  seemed 
to  be  afflicted  with  some  form  of  sciatica,  and  limped  painfully 
along.  His  feet  were  encased  in  a  wretched  pair  of  sabots, 
and  a  sort  of  wallet  hung  over  his  shoulder.  Several  tools  lay 
in  the  bottom  of  the  bag ;  their  handles,  blackened  with  long 
use  and  the  sweat  of  toil,  rattled  audibly  together ;  while  the 
other  end  of  the  wallet  behind  his  shoulder  held  bread,  some 
walnuts,  and  a  few  fresh  onions.  His  legs  seemed  to  be 
warped,  as  it  were ;  his  back  was  bent  by  continual  toil ;  he 
stooped  so  much  as  he  walked  that  he  leaned  on  a  long  stick 
to  steady  himself.  His  snow-white  hair  escaped  from  under  a 
battered  hat,  grown  rusty  by  exposure  to  all  sorts  of  weather, 
and  mended  here  and  there  with  visible  stitches  of  white 
thread.  His  clothes,  made  of  a  kind  of  rough  canvas,  were  a 
mass  of  patches  of  contrasting  colors.    This  piece  of  humanity 


100  THE   COUNTR  Y  DOCTOR. 

in  ruins  lacked  none  of  the  characteristics  that  appeal  to  our 
hearts  when  we  see  ruins  of  other  kinds. 

His  wife  held  herself  somewhat  more  erect.  Her  clothing 
was  likewise  a  mass  of  rags,  and  the  cap  that  she  wore  was  of 
the  coarsest  materials.  On  her  back  she  carried  a  rough 
earthen  jar  by  means  of  a  thong  passed  through  the  handles 
of  the  great  pitcher,  which  was  round  in  shape  and  flattened 
at  the  sides.  They  both  looked  up  when  they  heard  the 
horses  approaching,  saw  that  it  was  Benassis,  and  stopped. 

The  man  had  worked  till  he  was  almost  past  work,  and  his 
faithful  helpmate  was  no  less  broken  with  toil.  It  was  pain- 
ful to  see  how  the  summer's  sun  and  the  winter's  cold  had 
blackened  their  faces  and  covered  them  with  such  deep 
wrinkles  that  their  features  were  hardly  discernible.  It  was 
not  their  life  history  that  had  been  engraven  on  their  faces  ; 
but  it  might  be  gathered  from  their  attitude  and  bearing. 
Incessant  toil  had  been  the  lot  of  both ;  they  had  worked  and 
suffered  together ;  they  had  had  many  troubles  and  few  joys 
to  share;  and  now,  like  captives  grown  accustomed  to  their 
prison,  they  seemed  to  be  too  familiar  with  wretchedness  to 
heed  it,  and  to  take  everything  as  it  came.  Yet  a  certain 
frank  light- heartedness  was  not  lacking  in  their  faces;  and  on 
a  closer  view  their  monotonous  life,  the  lot  of  so  many  a  poor 
creature,  wellnigh  seemed  an  enviable  one.  Trouble  had  set 
its  unmistakable  mark  upon  them,  but  petty  cares  had  left  no 
traces  there. 

**  Well,  my  good  Father  Moreau,  I  suppose  there  is  no  help 
for  it,  and  you  must  always  be  working? " 

"Yes,  M.  Benassis,  there  are  one  or  two  more  bits  of  waste 
that  I  mean  to  clear  for  you  before  I  knock  off  work,"  the  old 
man  answered  cheerfully,  and  a  light  shone  in  his  little  black 
eyes. 

"  Is  that  wine  that  your  wife  there  is  carrying?  If  you  will 
not  take  a  rest  now,  you  ought  at  any  rate  to  take  wine." 

"  I  take  a  rest  ?    I  should  not  know  what  to  do  with  my- 


A   DOCTOR'S  HOUND.  101 

self.  The  sun  and  the  fresh  air  put  life  into  me  when  I  am 
out  of  doors  and  busy  grubbing  up  the  land.  As  to  the  wine, 
sir,  yes,  that  is  wine  sure  enough,  and  it  is  all  through  your 
contriving  I  know  that  the  Mayor  at  Courteil  lets  us  have  it 
'for  next  to  nothing.  Ah,  you  managed  it  very  cleverly,  but, 
all  the  same,  I  know  you  had  a  hand  in  it." 

"  Oh  !  come,  come  !  Good-day,  mother.  You  are  going 
to  work  on  that  bit  of  land  of  Champferlu's  to-day  of  course  ?' ' 

"Yes,  sir;  I  made  a  beginning  there  yesterday  evening." 

"Capital!"  said  Benassis.  "It  must  be  a  satisfaction  to 
you,  at  times,  to  see  this  hillside.  You  two  have  broken  up 
almost  the  whole  of  the  land  on  it  yourselves." 

"Lord!  yes,  sir,"  answered  the  old  woman,  "  it  has  been 
our  doing  !     We  have  fairly  earned  our  bread." 

"  Work,  you  see,  and  land  to  cultivate  are  the  poor  man's 
consols.  That  good  man  would  think  himself  disgraced  if  he 
went  into  the  poorhouse  or  begged  for  his  bread ;  he  would 
choose  to  die  pickaxe  in  hand,  out  in  the  open,  in  the  sun- 
light. Faith,  he  bears  a  proud  heart  in  him.  He  has  worked 
until  work  has  become  his  very  life  ;  and  yet  death  has  no 
terrors  for  him  !  He  is  a  profound  philosopher,  little  as  he 
suspects  it.  Old  Moreau's  case  suggested  the  idea  to  me  of 
founding  an  almshouse  for  the  country  people  of  the  district ; 
a  refuge  for  those  who,  after  working  hard  all  their  lives,  have 
reached  an  honorable  old  age  of  poverty. 

"I  had  by  no  means  expected  to  make  the  fortune  which  I 
have  acquired  here  ;  indeed,  I  myself  have  no  use  for  it,  for 
a  man  who  has  fallen  from  the  pinnacle  of  his  hopes  needs 
very  little.  It  costs  but  little  to  live,  the  idler's  life  alone  is 
a  costly  one,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  the  unproductive  con- 
sumer is  not  robbing  the  community  at  large.  There  was 
some  discussion  about  Napoleon's  pension  after  his  fall  ;  it 
came  to  his  ears,  and  he  said  that  five  francs  a  day  and  a  horse 
to  ride  were  all  that  he  needed.  I  meant  to  have  no  more  to 
do  with  money  when  I  came  here ;  but  after  a  time  I  saw  that 


102  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

money  means  power,  and  that  it  is  in  fact  a  necessity,  if  any 
good  is  to  be  done.  So  I  have  made  arrangements  in  my  will  for 
turning  my  house  into  an  almshouse,  in  which  old  people  who 
have  not  Moreau's  fierce  independence  can  end  their  days.  ^ 
Part  of  the  income  of  nine  thousand  francs  brought  in  by  the 
mill  and  the  rest  of  my  property  will  be  devoted  to  giving 
outdoor  relief  in  hard  winters  to  those  who  really  stand  in 
need  of  it. 

"  This  foundation  will  be  under  the  control  of  the  Municipal 
Council,  with  the  addition  of  the  cure,  who  is  to  be  president ; 
and  in  this  way  the  money  made  in  the  district  will  be  returned 
to  it.  In  my  will  I  have  laid  down  the  lines  on  which  this 
institution,  is  to  be  conducted ;  it  would  be  tedious  to  go  over 
them,  it  is  enough  to  say  that  I  have  thought  it  all  out  very 
carefully.  I  have  also  created  a  trust  fund,  which  will  some 
day  enable  the  commune  to  award  several  scholarships  for 
children  who  show  signs  of  promise  in  art  or  science.  So, 
even  after  I  am  gone,  my  work  of  civilization  will  continue. 
When  you  have  set  yourself  to  do  anything,  Captain  Bluteau, 
something  within  you  urges  you  on,  you  see,  and  you  cannot 
bear  to  leave  it  unfinished.  This  craving  within  us  for  order 
and  for  perfection  is  one  of  the  signs  that  point  most  surely 
to  a  future  existence.  Now,  let  us  quicken  our  pace,  I  have 
my  round  to  finish,  and  there  are  five  or  six  more  patients  still 
to  be  visited." 

They  cantered  on  for  some  time  in  silence,  till  Benassis  said 
laughingly  to  his  companion,  '*  Come  now,  Captain  Bluteau, 
you  have  drawn  me  out  and  made  me  chatter  like  a  magpie, 
and  you  have  not  said  a  syllable  about  your  own  history, 
which  must  be  an  interesting  one.  When  a  soldier  has  come 
to  your  time  of  life,  he  has  seen  so  much  that  he  must  have 
more  than  one  adventure  to  tell  about." 

"  Why,  my  history  has  been  simply  the  history  of  the  army," 
answered  Genestas.  "  Soldiers  are  all  after  one  pattern. 
Never  in  command,  always  giving  and  taking  sabre-cuts  in  my 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  103 

place,  I  have  lived  just  like  everybody  else.  I  have  been 
wherever  Napoleon  led  us,  and  have  borne  a  part  in  every 
battle  in  which  the  Imperial  Guard  has  struck  a  blow;  but 
everybody  knows  all  about  these  events.  A  soldier  has  to  look 
after  his  horse,  to  endure  hunger  and  thirst  at  times,  to  fight 
whenever  there  is  fighting  to  be  done,  and  there  you  have  the 
whole  history  of  his  life.  As  simple  as  saying  good-day,  is  it 
not  ?  Then  there  are  battles  in  which  your  horse  casts  a  slioe 
at  the  outset  and  lands  you  in  a  quandary  ;  and  as  far  as  you 
are  concerned,  that  is  the  whole  of  it.  In  short,  I  have  seen 
so  many  countries,  that  seeing  them  has  come  to  be  a  matter 
of  course;  and  I  have  seen  so  many  men  die  that  I  have  come 
to  value  my  own  life  at  nothing." 

"  But  you  yourself  must  have  been  in  danger  at  times,  and 
it  would  be  interesting  to  hear  you  tell  of  your  personal  ad- 
ventures." 

"Perhaps,"  answered  the  commandant, 

"Well,  then,  tell  me  about  the  adventure  that  made  the 
deepest  impression  upon  you.  Come  !  do  not  hesitate.  I 
shall  not  think  that  you  are  wanting  in  modesty  even  if  you 
should  tell  me  of  some  piece  of  heroism  on  your  part ;  and 
when  a  man  is  quite  sure  that  he  will  not  be  misunderstood, 
ought  he  not  to  find  a  kind  of  pleasure  in  saying,  '  I  did 
thus?'" 

"Very  well,  then,  I  will  tell  you  about  something  that  gives 
me  a  pang  of  remorse  from  time  to  time.  During  fifteen 
years  of  warfare  it  never  once  happened  that  I  killed  a  man 
save  in  legitimate  defence  of  self.  We  are  drawn  up  in  line, 
and  we  charge  ;  and  if  we  do  not  strike  down  those  before  us, 
they  will  begin  to  draw  blood  without  asking  leave,  so  you 
have  to  kill  if  you  do  not  mean  to  be  killed,  and  your  con- 
science is  quite  easy.  But  once  I  broke  a  comrade's  back ; 
it  happened  in  a  singular  way,  and  it  has  been  a  painful  thing 
to  me  to  think  of  afterwards — the  man's  dying  grimace  haunts 
me  at  times.     But  you  shall  judge  for  yourself. 


104  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"  It  was  during  the  retreat  from  Moscow,"  the  commandant 
went  on.  "The  Grand  Army  had  ceased  to  be  itself;  we 
were  more  like  a  herd  of  overdriven  cattle.  Good-bye  to 
discipline !  The  regiments  had  lost  sight  of  their  colors, 
every  one  was  his  own  master,  and  the  Emperor  (one  need 
not  scruple  to  say  it)  knew  that  it  was  useless  to  attempt  to 
exert  his  authority  when  things  had  gone  so  far.  When  we 
reached  Studzianka,  a  little  place  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Beresina,  we  came  upon  human  dwellings  for  the  first  time 
after  several  days.  There  were  barns  and  peasants'  cabins  to 
destroy,  and  pits  full  of  potatoes  and  beetroot ;  the  army  had 
been  without  victuals,  and  now  it  fairly  ran  riot,  the  first 
comers,  as  you  might  expect,  making  a  clean  sweep  of  every- 
thing. 

"  I  was  one  of  the  last  to  come  up.  Luckily  for  me,  sleep 
was  the  one  thing  that  I  longed  for  just  then.  I  caught  sight  of 
a  barn  and  v/ent  into  it.  I  looked  round  and  saw  a  score  of 
generals  and  officers  of  high  rank,  all  of  them  men  who, 
without  flattery,  might  be  called  great.  Junot  was  there,  and 
Narbonne,  the  Emperor's  aide-de-camp,  and  all  the  chiefs  of 
the  army.  There  were  common  soldiers  there  as  well,  not 
one  of  whom  would  have  given  up  his  bed  of  straw  to  a 
marshal  of  France.  Some  who  were  leaning  their  backs 
against  the  wall  had  dropped  off  to  sleep  where  they  stood, 
because  there  was  no  room  to  lie  down  ;  others  lay  stretched 
out  on  the  floor — it  was  a  mass  of  men  packed  together  so 
closely  for  the  sake  of  warmth,  that  I  looked  about  in  vain 
for  a  nook  to  lie  down  in.  I  walked  over  this  flooring  of  human 
bodies ;  some  of  the  men  growled,  the  others  said  nothing,  but 
no  one  budged.  They  would  not  have  moved  out  of  the  way 
of  a  cannon  ball  just  then  ;  but  under  the  circumstances,  one 
was  not  obliged  to  practise  the  maxims  laid  down  by  the 
child's  *  Guide  to  Manners.'  Groping  about,  I  saw  at  the 
end  of  the  barn  a  sort  of  ledge  up  in  the  roof;  no  one  had 
thought  of  scrambling  up  to  it,  possibly  no  one  had  felt  equal 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  105 

to  the  effort.  I  clambered  up  and  ensconced  myself  upon  it ; 
and  as  I  lay  there  at  full  length,  I  looked  down  at  the  men 
huddled  together  like  sheep  below.  It  was  a  pitiful  sight,  yet 
it  almost  made  me  laugh.  A  man  here  and  there  was  gnaw- 
ing a  frozen  carrot,  with  a  kind  of  animal  satisfaction  expressed 
in  his  face ;  and  thunderous  snores  came  from  generals  who  lay 
muffled  up  in  ragged  cloaks.  The  whole  barn  was  lighted  by 
a  blazing  pine  log ;  it  might  have  set  the  place  on  fire,  and 
no  one  would  have  troubled  themselves  to  get  up  and  put  it 
out. 

"I  lay  down  on  my  back,  and  naturally,  just  before  I 
dropped  off,  my  eyes  traveled  to  the  roof  above  me,  and  then 
I  saw  that  the  main  beam  which  bore  the  weight  of  the  joists 
was  being  slightly  shaken  from  east  to  west.  The  blessed 
thing  danced  about  in  fine  style.  '  Gentlemen,'  said  I,  '  one 
of  our  friends  outside  has  a  mind  to  warm  himself  at  our 
expense.'  A  few  moments  more  and  the  beam  was  sure  to 
comedown.  *  Gentlemen  !  gentlemen  !  '  I  shouted,  '  we  shall 
all  be  killed  in  a  minute  !  Look  at  the  beam  there  !  '  and  I 
made  such  a  noise  that  my  bed-fellows  woke  at  last.  Well, 
sir,  they  all  stared  up  at  the  beam,  and  then  those  who  had 
been  sleeping  turned  round  and  went  off  to  sleep  again,  while 
those  who  were  eating  did  not  even  stop  to  answer  me. 

"  Seeing  how  things  were,  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
get  up  and  leave  my  place,  and  run  the  risk  of  finding  it 
taken  by  somebody  else,  for  all  the  lives  of  this  heap  of  heroes 
were  at  stake.  So  out  I  go.  I  turn  the  corner  of  the  barn 
and  come  upon  a  great  devil  of  a  Wilrtemberger,  who  was 
tugging  at  the  beam  with  a  certain  enthusiasm.  '  Aho  !  aho  ! ' 
I  shouted,  trying  to  make  him  understand  that  he  must  desist 
from  his  toil.  'Gehe  mir  aus  dem  Gesichi,  oder  ich  schlag  dick 
todt!'  (Get  out  of  my  sight,  or  I  will  kill  you)  he  cried. 
*  Ah  !  yes,  just  so,  Que  mire  aous  dem  guesit,'  I  answered,  *  but 
that  is  not  the  point.'  I  picked  up  his  gun  that  he  had  left 
on  the  ground,  and  broke  his  back  with  it ;  then  I  turned  in 


106  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

again,  and  went  off  to  sleep.  Now  you  know  the  whole 
business." 

"But  that  was  a  case  of  self-defence,  in  which  one  man 
suffered  for  the  good  of  many,  so  you  have  nothing  to  reproach 
yourself  with,"  said  Benassis. 

"  The  rest  of  them  thought  that  it  had  only  been  my 
fancy ;  but  fancy  or  no,  a  good  many  of  them  are  living 
comfortably  in  fine  houses  to-day,  without  feeling  their  hearts 
oppressed  by  gratitude." 

"Then  would  you  only  do  people  a  good  turn  in  order 
to  receive  that  exorbitant  interest  called  gratitude?"  said 
Benassis,  laughing.  "  That  would  be  asking  a  great  deal  for 
your  outlay." 

'*  Oh,  I  know  quite  well  that  all  the  merit  of  a  good  deed 
evaporates  at  once  if  it  benefits  the  doer  in  the  slightest 
degree,"  said  Genestas.  "If  he  tells  the  story  of  it,  the  toll 
brought  in  to  his  vanity  is  a  sufficient  substitute  for  gratitude. 
But  if  every  doer  of  kindly  actions  always  held  his  tongue 
about  them,  those  who  reaped  the  benefits  would  hardly  say 
very  much  either.  Now  the  people,  according  to  your  system, 
stand  in  need  of  examples,  and  how  are  they  to  hear  of  them 
amid  this  general  reticence  ?  Again,  there  is  this  poor 
pontooneer  of  ours,  who  saved  the  whole  French  army,  and 
who  was  never  able  to  tell  his  tale  to  any  purpose ;  suppose 
that  he  had  lost  the  use  of  his  limbs,  would  the  consciousness 
of  what  he  had  done  have  found  him  in  bread  ?  Answer  me 
that,  philosopher !  " 

"  Perhaps  the  rules  of  morality  cannot  be  absolute,"  Benas- 
sis answered;  "though  this  is  a  dangerous  idea,  for  it 
leaves  the  egotist  free  to  settle  cases  of  conscience  in  his  own 
favor.  Listen,  captain ;  is  not  the  man  who  never  swerves 
from  the  principles  of  morality  greater  than  he  who  trans- 
gresses them,  even  through  necessity?  Would  not  our  vet- 
eran, dying  of  hunger,  and  unable  to  help  himself,  be  worthy 
to  rank  with  Homer  ?     Human  life  is  doubtless  a  final  trial  of 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  107 

virtue  as  of  genius,  for  both  of  which  a  better  world  is  wait- 
ing. Virtue  and  genius  seem  to  me  to  be  the  fairest  forms  of 
that  complete  and  constant  surrender  of  self  that  Jesus  Christ 
came  among  men  to  teach.  Genius  sheds  its  light  in  the 
world  and  lives  in  poverty  all  its  days,  and  virtue  sacrifices 
itself  in  silence  for  the  general  good." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  sir,"  said  Genestas;  "but  those 
who  dwell  on  earth  are  men  after  all,  and  not  angels ;  we  are 
not  perfect." 

"That  is  quite  true,"  Benassis  answered.  "And  as  for 
errors,  I  myself  have  abused  the  indulgence.  But  ought  we 
not  to  aim,  at  any  rate,  at  perfection  ?  Is  not  virtue  a  fair 
ideal  which  the  soul  must  always  keep  before  it,  a  standard  set 
up  by  heaven  ?  ' ' 

"Amen,"  said  the  soldier.  "An  upright  man  is  a  mag- 
nificent thing,  I  grant  you ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  you  must 
admit  that  virtue  is  a  divinity  who  may  indulge  in  a  scrap  of 
gossip  now  and  then  in  the  strictest  propriety." 

The  doctor  smiled,  but  there  was  a  melancholy  bitterness 
in  his  tone  as  he  said,  "  Ah  !  sir,  you  regard  things  with  the 
leniertce  natural  to  those  who  live  at  peace  with  themselves; 
and  I  with  all  the  severity  of  one  who  sees  much  that  he 
would  fain  obliterate  in  the  story  of  his  life." 

The  two  horsemen  reached  a  cottage  beside  the  bed  of  the 
torrent ;  the  doctor  dismounted  and  went  into  the  house. 
Genestas,  on  the  threshold,  looked  over  the  bright  spring 
landscape  that  lay  without,  and  then  at  the  dark  interior  of 
the  cottage,  where  a  man  was  lying  in  bed.  Benassis  examined 
his  patient,  and  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  My  good  woman,  it  is 
no  use  my  coming  here  unless  you  carry  out  my  instructions ! 
You  have  been  giving  him  bread  ;  you  want  to  kill  your 
husband,  I  suppose  ?  Botheration  !  If  after  this  you  give 
him  anything  besides  tisane  of  couch-grass,  I  will  never  set 
foot  in  here  again,  and  you  can  look  where  you  like  for 
another  doctor." 


108  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"  But,  dear  M.  Benassis,  my  old  man  was  starving,  and 
when  he  had  eaten  nothing  for  a  whole  fortnight " 

"Oh,  yes,  yes.  Now  will  you  listen  to  me?  If  you  let 
your  husband  eat  a  single  mouthful  of  bread  before  I  give  him 
leave  to  take  solid  food,  you  will  kill  him,  do  you  hear?" 

"  He  shall  not  have  anything,  sir.  Is  he  any  better?  "  she 
asked,  following  the  doctor  to  the  door. 

**  Why,  no.  You  have  made  him  worse  by  feeding  him. 
Shall  I  never  get  it  into  your  stupid  heads  that  you  must  not 
stuff  people  who  are  being  dieted  ?  " 

**  The  peasants  are  incorrigible,"  Benassis  went  on,  speak- 
ing to  Genestas.  "  If  a  patient  has  eaten  nothing  for  two  or 
three  days,  they  think  he  is  at  death's  door,  and  they  cram 
him  with  soup  or  wine  or  something.  Here  is  a  wretched 
woman  for  you  that  has  all  but  killed  her  husband." 

"  Kill  my  husband  with  a  little  mite  of  a  sop  in  wine  !  " 

"  Certainly,  my  good  woman.  It  amazes  me  that  he  is 
still  alive  after  that  mess  you  cooked  for  him.  Mind  that  you 
do  exactly  as  I  have  told  you." 

"Yes,  dear  sir,  I  would  far  rather  die  myself  than  lose 
him."  « 

"Oh!  as  to  that  I  shall  soon  see.  I  shall  come  again 
to-morrow  evening  to  bleed  him." 

"Let  us  walk  along  the  side  of  the  stream,"  Benassis  said 
to  Genestas;  "  there  is  only  a  footpath  between  this  cottage 
and  the  next  house  where  I  must  pay  a  call.  That  man's 
little  boy  will  hold  our  horses. 

"You  must  admire  this  lovely  valley  of  ours  a  little,"  he 
went  on ;  "  it  is  like  an  English  garden,  is  it  not  ?  The  laborer 
who  lives  in  the  cottage  which  we  are  going  to  visit  has  never 
got  over  the  death  of  one  of  his  children.  The  eldest  boy, 
he  was  only  a  lad,  would  try  to  do  a  man's  work  last  harvest- 
tide  ;  it  was  beyond  his  strength,  and  before  the  autumn  was 
out  he  died  of  a  decline.  This  is  the  first  case  of  really 
strong  fatherly  love  that  has  come  under  my  notice.     As  a 


A    DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  109 

rule,  when  their  children  die,  the  peasant's  regret  is  for  the 
loss  of  a  useful  chattel  and  a  part  of  their  stock-in-trade,  and 
the  older  the  child  the  heavier  their  sense  of  loss.  A  grown- 
up son  or  daughter  is  so  much  capital  to  tlie  parents.  But 
this  poor  fellow  really  loved  that  boy  of  his.  '  Nothing  can 
comfort  me  for  my  loss,'  he  said  one  day  when  I  came  across 
him  out  in  the  fields.  He  had  forgotten  all  about  his  work, 
and  was  standing  there  motionless,  leaning  on  his  scythe ;  he 
had  picked  up  his  hone,  it  lay  in  his  hand,  and  he  had  forgot- 
ten to  use  it.  He  has  never  spoken  since  of  his  grief  to  me, 
but  he  has  grown  sad  and  silent.  Just  now  it  is  one  of  his 
little  girls  who  is  ill." 

Benassis  and  his  guest  reached  the  little  house  as  they 
talked.  It  stood  beside  a  pathway  that  led  to  a  bark-mill. 
They  saw  a  man  about  forty  years  of  age,  standing  under  a 
'willow  tree,  eating  bread  that  had  been  rubbed  with  a  clove 
of  garlic. 

"Well,  Gasnier,  is  the  little  one  doing  better?"  asked  the 
doctor  as  he  came  up  to  him, 

"I  do  not  know,  sir,"  he  said  dejectedly,  "you  will  see; 
my  wife  is  sitting  with  her.  In  spite  of  all  your  care,  I  am 
very  much  afraid  that  death  will  come  to  empty  my  home  for 
me. 

"  Do  not  lose  heart,  Gasnier.  Death  is  too  busy  to  take  up 
his  abode  in  any  dwelling." 

Benassis  went  into  the  house,  followed  by  the  father.  Half 
an  hour  later  he  came  out  again.  The  mother  was  with  him 
this  time,  and  he  spoke  to  her,  "You  need  have  no  anxiety 
about  her  now  ;  follow  out  my  instructions  ;  she  is  out  of 
danger." 

"  If  you  are  growing  tired  of  this  sort  of  thing,"  the  doctor 
said  to  the  officer,  as  he  mounted  his  horse,  "I  can  put  you 
on  the  way  to  the  town,  and  you  can  return." 

**  No,  I  am  not  tired  of  it,  I  give  you  my  word." 

"  But  you  will  only  see  cottages  everywhere,  and  they  are 


110  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR.  * 

all  alike ;  nothing,  to  outward  seeming,  is  more  monotonous 
than  the  country." 

"Let  us  go  on,"  said  the  officer,  as  he  rode  up  to  the 
doctor's  side. 

They  rode  on  in  this  way  for  several  hours,  and  after  going 
from  one  side  of  the  canton  to  the  other  they  returned  to- 
wards evening  to  the  precincts  of  the  town. 

"I  must  just  go  over  there,"  the  doctor  said  to  Genestas, 
as  he  pointed  out  a  place  where  a  cluster  of  elm  trees  grew. 
"Those  trees  may  possibly  be  two  hundred  years  old,"  he 
went  on,  "and  that  is  where  the  woman  lives,  on  whose 
account  the  lad  came  to  fetch  me  last  night  at  dinner,  with 
a  message  that  she  had  turned  quite  white." 

"Was  it  anything  serious?" 

"No,"  said  Benassis,  "an  effect  of  pregnancy.  It  is  the 
last  month  with  her,  a  time  at  which  some  women  suffer  from 
spasms.  But  by  way  of  precaution,  I  must  go  in  any  case  to 
make  sure  that  there  are  no  further  alarming  symptoms ;  I 
shall  see  her  through  her  confinement  myself.  And,  more- 
over, I  should  like  to  show  you  one  of  our  new  industries ; 
there  is  a  brickfield  here.  It  is  a  good  road ;  shall  we 
gallop?" 

"  Will  your  animal  keep  up  with  mine?  "  asked  Genestas. 
"Heigh  !  Neptune!  "  he  called  to  his  horse,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment the  oflScer  had  been  carried  far  ahead,  and  was  lost  to 
sight  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  but  in  spite  of  the  paces  of  his  horse 
he  still  heard  the  doctor  beside  him.  At  a  word  from  Benassis 
his  own  horse  left  the  commandant  so  far  behind  that  the 
latter  only  came  up  with  him  at  the  gate  of  the  brickfield, 
where  the  doctor  was  quietly  fastening  the  bridle  to  the  gate- 
post. 

"  The  devil  take  it !  "  cried  Genestas,  after  a  look  at  the 
horse,  that  was  neither  sweated  nor  blown.  "What  kind  of 
animal  have  you  there  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  doctor,  "you  took  him  for  a  screw !    The 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  Ill 

history  of  this  fine  fellow  would  take  up  too  much  time  just 
now ;  let  it  suffice  to  say  that  Roustan  is  a  thoroughbred  barb 
from  the  Atlas  mountains,  and  a  Barbary  horse  is  as  good  as  an 
Arab.  This  one  of  mine  will  gallop  up  the  mountain  roads 
without  turning  a  hair,  and  will  never  miss  his  footing  in  a 
canter  along  the  brink  of  a  precipice.  He  was  a  present  to 
me,  and  I  think  that  I  deserved  it,  for  in  this  way  a  father 
sought  to  repay  me  for  his  daughter's  life.  She  is  one  of  the 
wealthiest  heiresses  in  Europe,  and  she  was  at  the  brink  of 
death  when  I  found  her  on  the  road  to  Savoy.  If  I  were  to 
tell  you  how  I  cured  that  young  lady,  you  would  take  me  for 
a  quack.  Aha  !  that  is  the  sound  of  the  bells  on  the  horses 
and  the  rumbling  of  a  wagon  ;  it  is  coming  along  this  way ; 
let  us  see,  perhaps  that  is  Vigneau  himself;  and  if  so,  take  a 
good  look  at  him  !  " 

In  another  moment  the  officer  saw  a  team  of  four  huge 
horses,  like  those  which  are  owned  by  prosperous  farmers  in 
Brie.  The  harness,  the  little  bells,  and  the  knots  of  braid  in 
their  manes  were  clean  and  smart.  The  great  wagon  itself 
was  painted  bright  blue,  and  perched  aloft  in  it  sat  a  stalwart, 
sunburned  youth,  who  shouldered  his  whip  like  a  gun  and 
whistled  a  tune. 

"  No,"  said  Benassis,  "  that  is  only  the  teamster.  But  see 
how  the  master's  prosperity  in  business  is  reflected  by  all  his 
belongings,  even  by  the  carter's  wagon  !  Is  it  not  a  sign  of 
a  capacity  for  business  not  very  often  met  with  in  remote 
country  places  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  yes,  it  all  looks  very'smart  indeed, ' '  the  officer  answered. 

"Well,  Vigneau  has  two  more  wagons  and  teams  like  that 
one,  and  he  has  a  small  pony  besides  for  business  purposes, 
for  he  does  a  trade  over  a  wide  area.  And  only  four  years 
ago  he  had  nothing  in  the  world  !  Stay,  that  is  a  mistake — 
he  had  some  debts.     But  let  us  go  in." 

"Is  Mme.  Vigneau  in  the  house?"  Benassis  asked  of  the 
young  teamster. 


112  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"She  is  out  in  the  garden,  sir;  I  saw  her  just  now  by  the 
hedge  down  yonder  ;  I  will  go  and  tell  her  that  you  are  here." 

Genestas  followed  Benassis  across  a  wide  open  space  with  a 
hedge  about  it.  In  one  corner  various  heaps  of  clay  had  been 
piled  up,  destined  for  tiles  and  pantiles,  and  a  stack  of  brush- 
wood and  logs  (fuel  for  the  kiln  no  doubt)  lay  in  another  part 
of  the  enclosure.  Farther  away  some  workmen  were  pounding 
chalk-stones  and  tempering  the  clay  in  a  space  enclosed  by 
hurdles.  The  tiles,  both  round  and  square,  were  made  under 
the  great  elms  opposite  the  gateway,  in  a  vast  green  arbor 
bounded  by  the  roofs  of  the  drying-shed,  and  near  this  last 
the  yawning  mouth  of  the  kiln  was  visible.  Some  long- 
handled  shovels  lay  about  the  worn  cinder  path.  A  second 
row  of  buildings  had  been  erected  parallel  with  these.  There 
was  a  sufficiently  wretched  dwelling  which  housed  the  family, 
and  some  outbuildings — sheds  and  stables  and  a  barn.  The 
cleanliness  that  predominated  throughout,  and  the  thorough 
repair  in  which  everything  was  kept,  spoke  well  for  the  vigil- 
ance of  the  master's  eyes.  Some  poultry  and  pigs  wandered 
at  large  over  the  field. 

"Vigneau's  predecessor,"  said  Benassis,  **  was  a  good-for- 
nothing,  a  lazy  rascal  who  cared  about  nothing  but  drink. 
He  had  been  a  workman  himself;  he  could  keep  a  fire  in  his 
kiln  and  could  put  a  price  on  his  work,  and  that  was  about  all 
he  knew ;  he  had  no  energy,  and  no  idea  of  business.  If  no 
one  came  to  buy  his  wares  of  him,  they  simply  stayed  on  hand 
and  were  spoiled,  and  so  he  lost  the  value  of  them.  So  he 
died  of  want  at  last.  He  had  ill-treated  his  wife  till  she  was 
almost  idiotic,  and  she  lived  in  a  state  of  abject  wretchedness. 
It  was  so  painful  to  see  this  laziness  and  incurable  stupidity, 
and  I  so  much  disliked  the  sight  of  the  tile-works,  that  I  never 
came  this  way  if  I  could  help  it.  Luckily,  both  the  man  and 
his  wife  were  old  people.  One  fine  day  the  tile-maker  had  a 
paralytic  stroke,  and  I  had  him  removed  to  the  hospital  at 
Grenoble  at  once.     The  owner  of  the  tile-works  agreed  to 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  113 

take  it  over  without  disputing  about  its  condition,  and  I 
looked  round  for  new  tenants  who  would  take  their  part  in 
improving  the  industries  of  the  canton. 

"  Mme,  Gravier's  waiting-maid  had  married  a  poor  work- 
man, who  was  earning  so  little  with  the  potter  who  employed 
him  that  he  could  not  support  his  household.  He  listened  to 
my  advice,  and  actually  had  sufficient  courage  to  take  a  lease 
of  our  tile-works,  when  he  had  not  so  much  as  a  penny.  He 
came  and  took  up  his  abode  here,  taught  his  wife,  her  aged 
mother,  and  his  own  mother  how  to  make  tiles,  and  made 
workmen  of  them.  How  they  managed,  I  do  not  know,  upon 
my  honor  !  Vigneau  probably  borrowed  fuel  to  heat  his  kiln, 
he  certainly  worked  by  day,  and  fetched  in  his  materials  in 
basket-loads  by  night;  in  short,  no  one  knew  what  bound- 
less energy  he  brought  to  bear  upon  his  enterprise ;  and  the 
two  old  mothers,  clad  in  rags,  worked  like  negroes.  In  this 
way  Vigneau  contrived  to  fire  several  batches,  and  lived  for 
the  first  year  on  bread  that  was  hardly  won  by  the  toil  of  his 
household. 

"  Still,  he  made  a  living.  His  courage,  patience,  and  ster- 
ling worth  interested  many  people  in  him,  and  he  began  to  be 
known.  He  was  indefatigable.  He  would  hurry  over  to 
Grenoble  in  the  morning,  and  sell  his  bricks  and  tiles  there ; 
then  he  would  return  home  about  the  middle  of  the  day,  and 
go  back  again  to  the  town  at  night.  He  seemed  to  be  in  sev- 
eral places  at  once.  Towards  the  end  of  the  first  year  he  took 
two  little  lads  to  help  him.  Seeing  how  things  were,  I  loaned 
him  some  money,  and  since  then  from  year  to  year  the  fortunes 
of  the  family  have  steadily  improved.  After  the  second  year 
was  over  the  two  old  mothers  no  longer  moulded  bricks  nor 
pounded  stones  ;  they  looked  after  the  little  gardens,  made  the 
soup,  mended  the  clothes,  they  did  spinning  in  the  evenings, 
and  gathered  firewood  in  the  daytime ;  wliile  the  young  wife, 
who  can  read  and  write,  kept  the  accounts.  Vigneau  had  a 
small  horse,  and  rode  on  his  business  errands  about  the  neigh- 
8 


114  THE  COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

borhood  ;  next  he  thoroughly  studied  the  art  of  brick  and  tile 
making,  discovered  how  to  make  excellent  square  white  paving- 
tiles,  and  sold  them  for  less  than  the  usual  prices.  In  the 
third  year  he  had  a  cart  and  a  pair  of  horses,  and  at  the  same 
time  his  wife's  appearance  became  almost  elegant.  Every- 
thing about  his  household  improved  with  the  improvement  in 
his  business,  and  everywhere  there  were  the  same  neatness, 
method,  and  thrift  that  had  been  the  making  of  his  little 
fortune. 

**  At  last  he  had  work  enough  for  six  men,  to  whom  he  pays 
good  wages ;  he  employs  a  teamster,  and  everything  about  him 
wears  an  air  of  prosperity.  Little  by  little,  in  short,  by  dint 
of  taking  pains  and  extending  his  business,  his  income  has 
increased.  He  bought  the  tile-works  last  year,  and  next  year 
he  will  rebuild  his  house.  To-day  all  the  worthy  folk  there 
are  well  clothed  and  in  good  health.  His  wife,  who  used  to 
be  so  thin  and  pale  when  the  burden  of  her  husband's  cares 
and  anxieties  used  to  press  so  hardly  upon  her,  has  recovered 
her  good  looks  and  has  grown  quite  young  and  pretty  again. 
The  two  old  mothers  are  thoroughly  happy,  and  take  the 
deepest  interest  in  every  detail  of  the  housekeeping  or  of  the 
business.  Work  has  brought  money,  and  the  money  that 
brought  freedom  from  care  brought  health  and  plenty  and 
happiness.  The  story  of  this  household  is  a  living  history  in 
miniature  of  the  commune  since  I  have  known  it,  and  of  all 
young  industrial  states.  The  tile  factory  that  used  to  look  so 
empty,  melancholy,  ill-kept,  and  useless,  is  now  in  full  work, 
astir  with  life,  and  well  stocked  with  everything  required. 
There  is  a  good  stock  of  wood  here,  and  all  the  raw  material 
for  the  season's  work :  for,  as  you  know,  tiles  can  only  be 
made  during  a  few  months  in  the  year,  between  June  and  Sep- 
tember. Is  it  not  a  pleasure  to  see  all  this  activity?  My  tile- 
maker  has  done  his  share  of  the  work  in  every  building  in  the 
place.  He  is  always  wide  awake,  always  coming  and  going, 
always  busy — 'the  devourer,'  they  call  him  in  these  parts." 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  115 

Benassis  had  scarcely  finished  speaking  when  the  wicket 
gate  which  gave  entrance  to  the  garden  opened,  and  a  nicely- 
dressed  young  woman  appeared.  She  came  forward  as  quickly 
as  her  condition  allowed,  though  the  two  horsemen  hastened 
towards  her.  Her  attire  somewhat  recalled  her  former  quality 
ot  ladies'  maid,  for  she  wore  a  pretty  cap,  a  pink  dress,  a  silk 
apron,  and  white  stockings.  Mme.  Vigneau,  in  short,  was  a 
nice-looking  woman,  sufficiently  plump,  and  if  she  was  somewhat 
sunburned,  her  natural  complexion  must  have  been  very  fair. 
There  were  a  few  lines  still  left  in  her  forehead,  traced  there 
by  the  troubles  of  past  days,  but  she  had  a  bright  and  winsome 
face.  She  spoke  in  a  persuasive  voice,  as  she  saw  that  the 
doctor  came  no  farther,  "  Will  you  not  do  me  the  honor  of 
coming  inside  and  resting  for  a  moment,  M.  Benassis?" 

*'  Certainly  we  will.     Come  this  way,  captain." 

"  The  gentlemen  must  be  very  hot  !  Will  you  take  a  little 
milk  or  some  wine  ?  M.  Benassis,  please  try  a  little  of  the 
wine  that  my  husband  has  been  so  kind  as  to  buy  for  my  con- 
finement.    You  will  tell  me  if  it  is  good." 

"  You  have  a  good  man  for  your  husband." 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  turned  and  spoke  in  quiet  tones,  "lam 
very  well  off. ' ' 

"  We  will  not  take  anything,  Mme.  Vigneau;  I  only  came 
round  this  way  to  see  that  nothing  troublesome  had  hap- 
pened." 

"Nothing,"  she  said.  "  I  was  busy  out  in  the  garden,  as 
you  saw,  turning  the  soil  over  for  the  sake  of  something 
to  do." 

Then  the  two  old  mothers  came  out  to  speak  to  Benassis, 
and  the  young  teamster  planted  himself  in  the  middle  of  the 
yard,  in  a  spot  whence  he  could  have  a  good  view  of  the 
doctor. 

"Let  us  see,  let  me  have  your  hand,"  said  Benassis,  ad- 
dressing Mme.  Vigneau  ;  and  as  he  carefully  felt  her  pulse,  he 
stood  in  silence,  absorbed  in  thought.     The  three  women, 


116  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

meanwhile,  scrutinized  the  commandant  with  the  undisguised 
curiosity  that  country  people  do  not  scruple  to  express. 

"  Nothing  could  be  better  !  "  cried  the  doctor  cheerily. 

"Will  she  be  confined  soon?"  both  the  mothers  asked 
together. 

**  This  week  beyond  a  doubt.  Is  Vigneau  away  from 
home?  "  he  asked,  after  a  pause. 

"Yes,  sir,"  the  young  wife  answered;  "he  is  hurrying 
about  settling  his  business  affairs,  so  as  to  be  able  to  stay  at 
home  during  my  confinement,  the  dear  man  !  " 

"Well,  my  children,  go  on  and  prosper;  continue  to 
increase  your  wealth  and  to  add  to  your  family." 

The  cleanliness  of  the  almost  ruinous  dwelling  filled 
Genestas  with  admiration. 

Benassis  saw  the  officer's  astonishment,  and  said,  "  There 
is  no  one  like  Mme.  Vigneau  for  keeping  a  house  clean  and 
tidy  like  this.  I  wish  that  several  people  in  the  town  would 
come  here  to  take  a  lesson," 

The  tile-maker's  wife  blushed  and  turned  her  head  away ; 
but  the  faces  of  the  two  old  mothers  beamed  with  pleasure  at 
the  doctor's  words,  and  the  three  women  walked  with  them 
to  the  spot  where  the  horses  were  waiting, 

"Well,  now,"  the  doctor  said  to  the  two  old  women, 
"  here  is  happiness  for  you  both  !  Were  you  not  longing  to 
be  grandmothers?" 

"Oh,  do  not  talk  about  it,"  said  the  young  wife;  "they 
will  drive  me  crazy  among  them.  My  two  mothers  wish  for 
a  boy,  and  my  husband  would  like  to  have  a  little  girl.  It 
will  be  very  difficult  to  please  them  all,  I  think." 

"  But  you  yourself,"  asked  Benassis;  "  what  is  your  wish?  " 

"Ah,  sir,  I  wish  for  a  child  of  my  own." 

"There!  She  is  a  mother  already,  you  see,"  said  the 
doctor  to  the  officer,  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  bridle  of  his 
horse. 

"Good-bye,  M.  Benassis;  my  husband  will  be  sadly  dis- 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  117 

appointed  to  learn  that  you  have  been  here  when  he  was  not 
at  home  to  see  you." 

"He  has  not  forgotten  to  send  the  thousand  tiles  to  the 
Grange-aux-Belles  for  me?" 

"You  know  quite  well,  sir,  that  he  would  keep  all   the 

orders  in  the  canton  waiting  to  serve  you.     Why,  taking  your 

money  is  the  thing  that  troubles  him  most  ;  but  I  always  tell 

him  that  your  crowns  bring  luck  with  them,  and  so  they  do." 

"Good-bye,"  said  Benassis. 

A  little  group  gathered  about  the  bars  across  the  entrance 
to  the  tile-works.  The  three  women,  the  young  teamster, 
and  two  workmen  who  had  left  off  work  to  greet  the  doctor 
lingered  there  to  have  the  pleasure  of  being  with  him  until 
the  last  moment,  as  we  are  wont  to  linger  with  those  we  love. 
The  promptings  of  men's  hearts  must  everywhere  be  the  same, 
and  in  every  land  friendship  expresses  itself  in  the  same 
gracious  ways. 

Benassis  looked  at  the  height  of  the  sun  and  spoke  to  his 
companion — 

**  There  are  still  two  hours  of  daylight  left ;  and  if  you  are 
not  too  hungry,  we  will  go  to  see  some  one  with  whom  I 
nearly  always  spend  the  interval  between  the  last  of  my  visits 
and  the  hour  for  dinner.  She  is  a  charming  girl  whom  every 
one  here  calls  my  'good  friend.'  That  is  the  name  that  they 
usually  give  to  an  affianced  bride;  but  you  must  not  imagine 
that  there  is  the  slightest  imputation  of  any  kind  implied  or 
intended  by  the  use  of  the  word  in  this  case.  Poor  child,  the 
care  that  I  have  taken  of  her  has,  as  may  be  imagined,  made 
her  an  object  of  jealousy,  but  the  general  opinion  entertained 
as  to  my  character  has  prevented  any  spiteful  gossip.  If  no 
one  understands  the  apparent  caprice  that  has  led  me  to  make 
an  allowance  to  La  Fosseuse,  so  that  she  can  live  without 
being  compelled  to  work,  nobody  has  any  doubts  as  to  her 
character.  I  have  watched  over  her  with  friendly  care,  and 
every  one  knows  that  I  should  never  hesitate  to  marry  her  if 


118  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

my  affection  for  her  exceeded  the  limits  of  friendship.  But 
no  woman  exists  for  me  here  in  the  canton  or  anywhere  else," 
said  the  doctor,  forcing  a  smile.  "  Some  natures  feel  a  tyran- 
nous need  to  attach  themselves  to  some  one  thing  or  being 
which  they  single  out  from  among  the  beings  and  things 
around  them;  this  need  is  felt  most  keenly  by  a  man  of  quick 
sympathies,  and  all  the  more  pressingly  if  his  life  has  been 
made  desolate.  So,  trust  me,  it  is  a  favorable  sign  if  a  man 
is  strongly  attached  to  his  dog  or  his  horse  !  Among  the 
suffering  flock  which  chance  has  given  into  my  care,  this  poor 
little  sufferer  has  come  to  be  for  me  like  the  pet  lamb  that  the 
shepherd  lasses  deck  with  ribbons  in  my  own  sunny  land  of 
Languedoc ;  they  talk  to  it  and  allow  it  to  find  pasture  by  the 
side  of  the  cornfields,  and  its  leisurely  pace  is  never  hurried 
by  the  shepherd's  dog." 

Benassis  stood  with  his  hand  on  his  horse's  mane  as  he 
spoke,  ready  to  spring  into  the  saddle,  but  making  no  effort  to 
do  so,  as  though  the  thoughts  that  stirred  in  him  were  but 
little  in  keeping  with  rapid  movements. 

"  Let  us  go,"  he  said  at  last ;  "  come  with  me  and  pay  her 
a  visit.  I  am  taking  you  to  see  her ;  does  not  that  tell  you 
that  I  treat  her  as  a  sister?" 

As  they  rode  on  their  way  again,  Genestas  said  to  the 
doctor,  **  Will  you  regard  it  as  inquisitiveness  on  my  part  if  I 
ask  to  hear  more  of  La  Fosseuse?  I  have  come  to  know  the 
story  of  many  lives  through  you,  and  hers  cannot  be  less 
interesting  than  some  of  these." 

Benassis  stopped  his  horse  as  he  answered.  "  Perhaps  you 
will  not  share  in  the  feelings  of  interest  awakened  in  me 
by  La  Fosseuse.  Her  fate  is  like  my  own ;  we  have  both 
alike  missed  our  vocation ;  it  is  the  similarity  of  our  lots  that 
occasions  my  sympathy  for  her  and  the  feelings  that  I  experi- 
ence at  the  sight  of  her.  You  either  followed  your  natural 
bent  when  you  entered  upon  a  military  career,  or  you  took  a 
liking  for  your  calling  after  you  had  adopted  it,  otherwise  you 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  119 

would  not  have  borne  the  heavy  yoke  of  military  discipline  till 
now  ;  you,  therefore,  cannot  understand  the  sorrows  of  a  soul 
that  must  always  feel  renewed  within  it  the  stir  of  longings 
that  can  never  be  realized;  nor  the  pining  existence  of  a 
creature  forced  to  live  in  an  alien  sphere.  Such  sufferings  as 
these  are  known  only  to  these  natures  and  to  God  who  sends 
their  afflictions,  for  they  alone  can  know  how  deeply  the 
events  of  life  affect  them.  You  yourself  have  seen  the 
miseries  produced  by  long  wars  till  they  have  almost  ceased 
to  impress  you,  but  have  you  never  detected  a  trace  of  sadness 
in  your  mind  at  the  sight  of  a  tree  bearing  sere  leaves  in  the 
midst  of  spring,  some  tree  that  is  pining  and  dying  because  it 
has  been  planted  in  soil  in  which  it  could  not  find  the  suste- 
nance required  for  its  full  development?  Ever  since  my 
twentieth  year  there  has  been  something  painful  and  melan- 
choly for  me  about  the  drooping  of  a  stunted  plant,  and  now 
I  cannot  bear  the  sight  and  turn  my  head  away.  My  youth- 
ful sorrow  was  a  vague  presentiment  of  the  sorrows  of  my 
later  life  ;  it  was  a  kind  of  sympathy  between  my  present  and 
a  future  dimly  foreshadowed  by  the  life  of  the  tree  that  before 
its  time  was  going  the  way  of  all  trees  and  men." 

"  I  thought  that  you  had  suffered  when  I  saw  how  kind  you 
were." 

"You  see,  sir,"  the  doctor  went  on  without  any  reply  to 
the  remark  made  by  Genestas,  "  that  to  speak  of  La  Fosseuse 
is  to  speak  of  myself.  La  Fosseuse  is  a  plant  in  an  alien  soil ; 
a  human  plant,  moreover,  consumed  by  sad  thoughts  that  have 
their  source  in  the  depths  of  her  nature,  and  that  never  cease 
to  multiply.  The  poor  girl  is  never  well  and  strong.  The 
soul  within  her  kills  the  body.  This  fragile  creature  was  suf- 
fering from  the  sorest  of  all  troubles,  a  trouble  which  receives 
the  least  possible  sympathy  from  our  selfish  world,  and  how 
could  I  look  on  with  indifferent  eyes?  for  I,  a  man,  strong  to 
wrestle  with  pain,  was  nightly  tempted  to  refuse  to  bear  the 
burden  of  a  sorrow  like  hers.     Perhaps  I  might  actually  have 


190  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

refused  to  bear  it  but  for  a  thought  of  religion  which  soothes 
my  impatience  and  fills  my  heart  with  sweet  illusions.  Even 
if  we  were  not  children  of  the  same  Father  in  heaven,  La 
Fosseuse  would  still  be  my  sister  in  suffering  !  " 

Benassis  pressed  his  knees  against  his  horse's  sides,  and 
swept  ahead  of  Commandant  Genestas,  as  if  he  shrank  from 
continuing  this  conversation  any  further.  When  their  horses 
were  once  more  cantering  abreast  of  each  other,  he  spoke 
again:  "Nature  has  created  this  poor  girl  for  sorrow,"  he 
said,  "as  she  has  created  other  women  for  joy.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  do  otherwise  than  believe  in  a  future  life  at  the  sight 
of  natures  thus  predestined  to  suffer.  La  Fosseuse  is  sensitive 
and  highly  strung.  If  the  weather  is  dark  and  cloudy,  she  is 
depressed ;  she  *  weeps  when  the  sky  is  weeping,'  a  phrase  of 
of  her  own ;  she  sings  with  the  birds ;  she  grows  happy  and 
serene  under  a  cloudless  sky ;  the  loveliness  of  a  bright  day 
passes  into  her  face  ;  a  soft  sweet  perfume  is  an  inexhaustible 
pleasure  to  her ;  I  have  seen  her  take  delight  the  whole  day 
long  in  the  scent  breathed  forth  by  some  mignonette ;  and, 
after  one  of  those  rainy  mornings  that  bring  out  all  the  soul 
of  the  flowers  and  give  indescribable  freshness  and  brightness 
to  the  day,  she  seems  to  overflow  with  gladness  like  the  green 
world  around  her.  If  it  is  close  and  hot,  and  there  is  thunder 
in  the  air,  La  Fosseuse  feels  a  vague  trouble  that  nothing  can 
soothe.  She  lies  on  her  bed,  complains  of  numberless  dif- 
ferent ills,  and  does  not  know  what  ails  her.  In  answer  to 
my  questions,  she  tells  me  that  her  bones  are  melting,  that  she 
is  dissolving  into  water ;  her  '  heart  has  left  her,'  to  quote 
another  of  her  sayings. 

"  I  have  sometimes  come  upon  the  poor  child  suddenly 
and  found  her  in  tears,  as  she  gazed  at  the  sunset  effects  we 
sometimes  see  here  among  our  mountains,  when  bright  masses 
of  cloud  gather  and  crowd  together  and  pile  themselves  above 
the  golden  peaks  of  the  hills.  '  Why  are  you  crying,  little 
pne  ? '  I  have  asked  her.     '  I  do  not  know,  sir,'  has  been  the 


A    DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  121 

answer;  'I  have  grown  so  stupid  with  looking  up  there;  I 
have  looked  and  looked,  till  I  hardly  know  where  I  am.' 
'  But  what  do  you  see  there?  '  '  I  cannot  tell  you,  sir,'  and 
you  might  question  her  in  his  way  all  the  evening,  yet  you 
would  never  draw  a  word  from  her  ;  but  she  would  look  at 
you,  and  every  glance  would  seem  full  of  thoughts,  or  she 
would  sit  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  scarcely  saying  a  word,  ap- 
parently rapt  in  musing.  Those  musings  of  hers  are  so  pro- 
found that  you  fall  under  the  spell  of  them  ;  on  me,  at  least, 
she  has  the  effect  of  a  cloud  overcharged  with  electricity. 
One  day  I  plied  her  with  questions  ;  I  tried  with  all  my  might 
to  make  her  talk ;  at  last  I  let  fall  a  few  rather  hasty  words  ; 
and  well — she  burst  into  tears. 

"  At  other  times  La  Fosseuse  is  bright  and  winning,  active, 
merry,  and  sprightly;  she  enjoys  talking,  and  the  ideas  which 
she  expresses  are  fresh  and  original.  She  is,  however,  quite 
unable  to  apply  herself  steadily  to  any  kind  of  work.  When 
she  was  out  in  the  fields  she  used  to  spend  whole  hours  in 
looking  at  a  flower,  in  watching  the  water  flow,  in  gazing  at 
the  wonders  in  the  depths  of  the  clear,  still  river  pools,  at  the 
picturesque  mosaic  made  up  of  pebbles  and  earth  and  sand, 
of  water  plants  and  green  moss,  and  the  brown  soil  washed 
down  by  the  stream,  a  deposit  full  of  soft  shades  of  color, 
and  of  hues  that  contrast  strangely  with  each  other. 

'*  When  I  first  came  to  the  district  the  poor  girl  was  star- 
ving. It  hurt  her  pride  to  accept  the  bread  of  others ;  and  it 
was  only  when  driven  to  the  last  extremity  of  want  and 
suffering  that  she  could  bring  herself  to  ask  for  charity.  The 
feeling  that  this  was  a  disgrace  would  often  give  her  energy, 
and  for  several  days  she  worked  in  the  fields  ;  but  her  strength 
was  soon  exhausted,  and  illness  obliged  her  to  leave  the  work 
that  she  had  begun.  She  had  scarcely  recovered  when  she 
went  to  a  farm  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town  and  asked  to  be 
taken  on  to  look  after  the  cattle  ;  she  did  her  work  well  and 
intelligently,  but  after  a  while  she  left  without  giving  any 


122  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

reason  for  so  doing.  The  constant  toil,  day  after  day,  was 
no  doubt  too  heavy  a  yoke  for  one  who  is  all  independence 
and  caprice.  Then  she  set  herself  to  look  for  mushrooms  or 
for  truffles,  going  over  to  Grenoble  to  sell  them.  But  the 
gaudy  trifles  in  the  town  were  very  tempting,  the  few  small 
coins  in  her  hand  seemed  to  be  great  riches ;  she  would  forget 
her  poverty  and  buy  ribbons  and  finery,  without  a  thought  for 
to-morrow's  bread.  But  if  some  other  girl  here  in  the  town 
took  a  fancy  to  her  brass  crucifix,  her  agate  heart,  or  her  velvet 
ribbon,  she  would  make  them  over  to  her  at  once,  glad  to 
give  happiness,  for  she  lives  by  generous  impulses.  So  La 
Fosseuse  was  loved  and  pitied  and  despised  by  turns.  Every- 
thing in  her  nature  was  a  cause  of  suffering  to  her — her 
indolence,  her  kindness  of  heart,  her  coquetry ;  for  she  is 
coquettish,  dainty,  and  inquisitive ;  in  short,  she  is  a  woman  ; 
she  is  as  simple  as  a  child,  and,  like  a  child,  she  is  carried 
away  by  her  tastes  and  her  impressions.  If  you  tell  her  about 
some  noble  deed,  she  trembles,  her  color  rises,  her  heart 
throbs  fast,  and  she  sheds  tears  of  joy;  if  you  begin  a 
story  about  robbers,  she  turns  pale  with  terror.  You  could 
not  find  a  more  sincere,  open-hearted,  and  scrupulously  loyal 
nature  anywhere ;  if  you  were  to  give  a  hundred  gold-pieces 
into  her  keeping,  she  would  bury  them  in  some  out-of-the-way 
nook  and  beg  her  bread  as  before." 

There  was  a  change  in  Benassis'  tone  as  he  uttered  these 
last  words. 

"  I  once  determined  to  put  her  to  the  proof,"  he  said,  "and 
I  repented  of  it.  It  is  like  espionage  to  bring  a  test  to  bear 
upon  another,  is  it  not  ?  It  means  that  we  suspect  them  at 
any  rate." 

Here  the  doctor  paused,  as  though  some  inward  reflection 
engrossed  him  ;  he  was  quite  unconscious  of  the  embarrass- 
ment that  his  last  remark  had  caused  to  his  companion,  who 
busied  himself  with  disentangling  the  reins  in  order  to  hide 
his  confusion.     Benassis  soon  resumed  his  talk. 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  123 

"  I  should  like  to  find  a  husband  for  my  Fosseuse.     I  should 
be  glad  to  make  over  one  of  my  farms  to  some  good  fellow 
who  would  make  her  happy.     And  she  would  be  happy.    The 
poor  girl  would  love  her  children  to  distraction  ;  for  mother- 
hood, which  develops  the  whole  of  a  woman's  nature,  would 
give  full  scope  to  her  overflowing  sentiments.     She  has  never 
cared  for  any  one,  however.     Yet  her  impressionable  nature 
is  a  danger  to  her.     She  knows  this  herself,  and  when  she  saw 
that  I  recognized  it,  she  admitted  the  excitability  of  her  tem- 
perament to  me.     She  belongs  to  the  small  minority  of  women 
whom  the  slightest  contact  with  others  causes  to  vibrate  peril- 
ously; so   that   she   must   be    made  to  value  herself  on  her 
discretion  and  her  womanly  pride.     She  is  as  wild  and  shy  as 
a  swallow  !     Ah  !  what  a  wealth  of  kindness  there  is  in  her  ! 
Nature  meant  her  to  be  a  rich  woman  ;  she  would  be  so  benefi- 
cent :   for  a  well-loved  woman  ;  she  would  be  so  faithful  and 
true.    She  is  only  twenty-two  years  old,  and  is  sinking  already 
beneath   the   weight  of  her  soul ;  a  victim  to  highly-strung 
nerves,  to  an  organization  either  too  delicate  or  too  full  of 
power.     A  passionate  love  for  a  faithless  lover  would  drive 
her  mad,  my  poor  Fosseuse  !     I  have  made   a  study  of  her 
temperament,  recognized  the  reality  of  her  prolonged  nervous 
attacks,  and  of  the  swift  mysterious  recurrence  of  her  uplifted 
moods.     I  found   that  they  were  immediately  dependent  on 
atmospheric  changes  and  on   the  variations  ol  the  moon,  a 
fact  which  I  have  carefully  verified  ;  and  since  then  I  have 
cared  for  her,  as  a  creature  unlike  all  others,  for  she  is  a  being 
whose  ailing  existence  I  alone  can  understand.     As  I  have 
told  you,  she  is  the  pet  lamb.     But  you  shall  see  her ;  this  is 
her  cottage. ' ' 

They  had  come  about  one-third  of  the  way  up  the  mountain 
side.  Low  bushes  grew  on  either  hand  along  the  steep  paths 
which  they  were  ascending  at  a  foot  pace.  At  last,  at  a  turn 
in  one  of  the  paths,  Genestas  saw  La  Fosseuse's  dwelling, 
which  stood  on  one  of  the  largest  knolls  on  the  mountain. 


124  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

Around  it  was  a  green  sloping  space  of  lawn  about  three  acres 
in  extent,  planted  with  trees,  and  surrounded  by  a  wall  high 
enough  to  serve  as  a  fence,  but  not  so  high  as  to  shut  out  the 
view  of  the  landscape.  Several  rivulets  that  had  their  source 
in  this  garden  formed  little  cascades  among  the  trees.  The 
brick-built  cottage  with  a  low  roof  that  projected  several  feet 
was  a  charming  detail  in  the  landscape.  It  consisted  of  a 
ground  floor  and  a  single  story,  and  stood  facing  the  south. 
All  the  windows  were  in  the  front  of  the  house,  for  its  small 
size  and  lack  of  depth  from  back  to  front  made  other  openings 
unnecessary.  The  doors  and  shutters  were  painted  green,  and 
the  underside  of  the  penthouses  had  been  lined  with  deal 
boards  in  the  German  fashion,  and  painted  white.  The  rustic 
charm  of  the  whole  little  dwelling  lay  in  its  spotless  cleanliness. 
Climbing  plants  and  briar  roses  grew  about  the  house ;  a 
great  walnut  tree  had  been  allowed  to  remain  among  the 
flowering  acacias  and  trees  that  bore  sweet-scented  blossoms, 
and  a  few  weeping  willows  had  been  set  by  the  little  streams 
in  the  garden  space.  A  thick  belt  of  pines  and  beeches  grew 
behind  the  house,  so  that  the  picturesque  little  dwelling  was 
brought  out  into  strong  relief  by  the  sombre  width  of  back- 
ground. At  that  hour  of  the  day,  the  air  was  fragrant  with 
the  scents  from  the  hillsides  and  the  perfume  from  La  Fosseuse's 
garden.  The  sky  overhead  was  clear  and  serene,  but  low 
clouds  hung  on  the  horizon,  and  the  far-off  peaks  had  begun 
to  take  the  deep  rose  hues  that  the  sunset  often  brings.  At 
the  height  which  they  had  reached  the  whole  valley  lay  before 
their  eyes,  from  distant  Grenoble  to  the  little  lake  at  the  foot 
of  the  circle  of  crags  by  which  Genestas  had  passed  on  the 
previous  day.  Some  little  distance  above  the  house  a  line  of 
poplars  on  the  hill  indicated  the  highway  that  led  to  Grenoble. 
Rays  of  sunlight  fell  slantwise  across  the  little  town  which 
glittered  like  a  diamond,  for  the  soft  red  light  which  poured 
over  it  like  a  flood  was  reflected  by  all  its  window-panes. 
Genestas  rein?d  in  bis  horse  at  the  sight,  and  pointed  to  the 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  125 

dwellings  in  the  valley,  to  the  new  town,  and  to  La  Fosseuse's 
house. 

"Since  the  victory  of  Wagram,  and  Napoleon's  return  to 
the  Tuileries  in  1815,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh,  "  nothing  has  so 
stirred  me  as  the  sight  of  all  this.  I  owe  this  pleasure  to  you, 
sir,  for  you  have  taught  me  to  see  beauty  in  a  landscape." 

"Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  smiling  as  he  spoke,  "  it  is  better 
to  build  towns  than  to  storm  them." 

"  Oh  !  sir,  how  about  the  taking  of  Moscow  and  the  sur- 
render of  Mantua  !  Why,  you  do  not  really  know  what  that 
means  !  Is  it  not  a  glory  for  all  of  us  ?  You  are  a  good  man, 
but  Napoleon  also  was  a  good  man.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
England,  you  both  would  have  understood  each  other,  and  our 
Emperor  would  never  have  fallen.  There  are  no  spies  here," 
said  the  officer,  looking  around  him,  "and  I  can  say  openly 
that  I  love  him,  now  that  he  is  dead  !  What  a  ruler !  He 
knew  every  man  when  he  saw  him  !  He  would  have  made  you 
a  Councilor  of  State,  for  he  was  a  great  administrator  him- 
self; even  to  the  point  of  knowing  how  many  cartridges  were 
left  in  the  men's  boxes  after  an  action.  Poor  man  !  While 
you  were  talking  about  La  Fosseuse,  I  thought  of  him,  and 
how  he  was  lying  dead  in  St.  Helena  !  Was  that  the  kind  of 
climate  and  country  to  suit  him,  whose  seat  had  been  a  throne, 
and  who  had  lived  with  his  feet  in  the  stirrups?  They  say 
that  he  used  to  work  in  the  garden.     The  deuce  !     He  was 

not  made  to  plant  cabbages. And  now  we  must  serve  the 

Bourbons,  and  loyally,  sir  ;  for,  after  all,  France  is  France,  as 
you  were  saying  yesterday." 

Genestas  dismounted  as  he  uttered  these  last  words,  and 
mechanically  followed  the  example  set  by  Benassis,  who  fast- 
ened his  horse's  bridle  to  a  tree. 

"  Can  she  be  away?  "  said  the  doctor,  when  he  did  not  see 
La  Fosseuse  on  the  threshold.  They  went  into  the  house,  but 
there  was  no  one  in  the  sitting-room  on  the  ground  floor. 

"She  must  have  heard  the  sound  of  a  second  horse,"  said 


126  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

Benassis,  with  a  smile,  "and  has  gone  upstairs  to  put  on  her 
cap,  or  her  sash,  or  some  piece  of  finery. ' ' 

He  left  Genestas  alone,  and  went  upstairs  in  search  of  La 
Fosseuse.  The  commandant  made  a  survey  of  the  room. 
He  noticed  the  pattern  of  the  paper  that  covered  the  walls — 
roses  scattered  over  a  gray  background,  and  the  straw  matting 
that  did  duty  for  a  carpet  on  the  floor.  The  armchair,  the 
table,  and  the  smaller  chairs  were  made  of  wood  from  which 
the  bark  had  not  been  removed.  The  room  was  not  without 
ornament  j  some  flower-stands,  as  they  might  be  called,  made 
of  osiers  and  wooden  hoops,  had  been  filled  with  moss  and 
flowers,  and  the  windows  were  draped  by  white  dimity  curtains 
bordered  with  a  scarlet  fringe.  There  was  a  mirror  above  the 
chimney-piece,  where  a  plain  china  jar  stood  between  two 
candlesticks.  Some  calico  lay  on  the  table ;  shirts,  appar- 
ently, had  been  cut  out  and  begun,  several  pairs  of  gussets 
were  finished,  and  a  work-basket,  scissors,  needles,  and  thread, 
and  all  a  needle-woman's  requirements  lay  beside  them. 
Everything  was  as  fresh  and  clean  as  a  shell  that  the  sea  has 
tossed  up  on  the  beach.  Genestas  saw  that  a  kitchen  lay  on 
the  other  side  of  the  passage,  and  that  the  staircase  was  at  the 
farther  end  of  it.  The  upper  story,  like  the  ground  floor, 
evidently  consisted  of  two  rooms  only.  **  Come,  do  not  be 
frightened,"  Benassis  was  saying  to  La  Fosseuse;  ''come 
downstairs  !  " 

Genestas  promptly  retreated  into  the  sitting-room  when  he 
heard  these  words,  and  in  another  moment  a  slender  girl,  well 
and  gracefully  made,  appeared  in  the  doorway.  She  wore  a 
gown  of  cambric,  covered  with  narrow  pink  stripes,  and  cut 
low  at  the  throat,  so  as  to  display  a  muslin  chemisette.  Shy- 
ness and  timidity  had  brought  the  color  to  a  face  which  had 
nothing  very  remarkable  about  it  save  a  certain  flatness  of 
feature  which  called  to  mind  the  Cossack  and  Russian  counte- 
nances that  since  the  disasters  of  1814  have  unfortunately  come 
to  be  so  widely  known  in  France.    La  Fosseuse  was,  in  fact,  very 


A    DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  127 

like  these  men  of  the  North.  Her  nose  turned  up  at  the  end, 
and  was  sunk  in  her  face,  her  mouth  was  wide  and  her  chin 
small,  her  hands  and  arms  were  red  and,  like  her  feet,  were 
of  the  peasant  type,  large  and  strong.  Although  she  had 
been  used  to  an  outdoor  life,  to  exposure  to  the  sun  and  the 
scorching  summer  winds,  her  complexion  had  the  bleached 
look  of  withered  grass ;  but  after  the  first  glance  this  made 
her  face  more  interesting,  and  there  was  such  a  sweet  expres- 
sion in  her  blue  eyes,  so  much  grace  about  her  movements, 
and  such  music  in  her  voice,  that  little  as  her  features  seemed 
to  harmonize  with  the  disposition  which  Benassis  had  praised 
to  the  commandant,  the  officer  recognized  in  her  the  capric- 
ious and  ailing  creature,  condemned  to  suffering  by  a  nature 
that  had  been  thwarted  in  its  growth. 

La  Fosseuse  deftly  stirred  the  fire  of  dry  branches  and  turfs 
of  peat,  then  sat  down  in  an  armchair  and  took  up  one  of  the 
shirts  that  she  had  begun.  She  sat  there  under  the  officer's 
eyes,  half  bashful,  afraid  to  look  up,  and  calm  to  all  appear- 
ance;  but  her  bodice  rose  and  fell  with  the  rapid  breathing 
that  betrayed  her  nervousness,  and  it  struck  Genestas  that  her 
figure  was  very  graceful. 

"Well,  my  poor  child,  is  your  work  going  on  nicely?" 
said  Benassis,  taking  up  the  material  intended  for  the  shirts, 
and  passing  it  through  his  fingers. 

La  Fosseuse  gave  the  doctor  a  timid  and  beseeching  glance, 
at  the  same  time  ceasing  to  ply  her  needle. 

"Do  not  scold  me,  sir,"  she  entreated;  "I  have  not 
touched  them  to-day,  although  they  were  ordered  by  you,  and 
for  people  who  need  them  very  badly.  But  the  weather  has 
been  so  fine  !  I  wandered  out  and  picked  a  quantity  of  mush- 
rooms and  white  truffles,  and  took  them  over  to  Jacquotte ; 
she  was  very  much  pleased,  for  some  people  are  coming  to 
dinner.  I  was  so  glad  that  I  thought  of  it;  something  seemed 
to  tell  me  to  go  to  look  for  them." 

She  began  to  ply  her  needle  again. 


128  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"  You  have  a  very  pretty  house  here,  mademoiselle,"  said 
Genestas,  addressing  her. 

"It  is  not  mine  at  all,  sir,"  she  said,  looking  at  the 
stranger,  and  her  eyes  seemed  to  grow  red  and  tearful;  "it 
belongs  to  M.  Benassis,"  and  she  turned  towards  the  doctor 
with  a  gentle  expression  on  her  face. 

"You  know  quite  well,  my  child,  that  you  will  never  have 
to  leave  it,"  he  said,  as  he  took  her  hand  in  his. 

La  Fosseuse  suddenly  rose  and  left  the  room. 

"  Well,"  said  the  doctor,  addressing  the  officer,  "  what  do 
you  think  of  her?" 

"There  is  something  strangely  touching  about  her," 
Genestas  answered.  "  How  very  nicely  you  have  fitted  up 
this  little  nest  of  hers  !  " 

"  Bah  !  a  wall-paper  at  fifteen  or  twenty  sous ;  it  was  care- 
fully chosen,  but  that  was  all.  The  furniture  is  nothing  very 
much  either,  my  basket-maker  made  it  for  me ;  he  wanted  to 
show  his  gratitude ;  and  La  Fosseuse  made  the  curtains  her- 
self out  of  a  few  yards  of  calico.  This  little  house  of  hers 
and  her  simple  furniture  seem  pretty  to  you,  because  you 
come  upon  them  up  here  on  a  hillside  in  a  forlorn  part  of  the 
world  where  you  did  not  expect  to  find  things  clean  and  tidy. 
The  reason  of  the  prettiness  is  a  kind  of  harmony  between 
the  little  house  and  its  surroundings.  Nature  has  set  pictur- 
esque groups  of  trees  and  running  streams  about  it,  and  has 
scattered  her  fairest  flowers  among  the  grass,  her  sweet-scented 

wild   strawberry   blossoms,  and   her   lovely  violets Well, 

what  is  the  matter  ?  ' '  asked  Benassis,  as  La  Fosseuse  came 
back  to  them. 

"  Oh  !  nothing,  nothing,"  she  answered.  "  I  fancied  that 
one  of  my  chickens  was  missing,  and  had  not  been  shut  up." 

Her  remark  was  disingenuous,  but  this  was  only  noticed 
by  the  doctor,  who  said  in  her  ear,  "  You  have  been  crying  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  say  things  like  that  to  me  before  some  one 
else  ? ' '  she  asked  in  reply. 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  129 

**  Mademoiselle,"  said  Genestas,  "it  is  a  great  pity  that 
you  live  here  all  by  yourself;  you  ought  to  have  a  mate  in 
such  a  charming  cage  as  this." 

"That  is  true,"  she  said,  "  but  what  would  you  have?  I 
am  poor,  and  I  am  hard  to  please.  I  feel  that  it  would  not 
suit  me  at  all  to  carry  the  soup  out  into  the  fields,  nor  to  push 
a  hand-cart ;  to  feel  the  misery  of  those  whom  I  should  love,  and 
have  no  power  to  put  an  end  to  it ;  to  carry  my  children  in 
my  arms  all  day,  and  patch  and  repatch  a  man's  rags.  The 
cure  tells  me  that  such  thoughts  as  these  are  not  very  Chris- 
tian ;  I  know  that  myself,  but  how  can  I  help  it  ?  There  are 
days  when  I  would  rather  eat  a  morsel  of  dry  bread  than  cook 
anything  for  my  dinner.  Why  would  you  have  me  worry 
some  man's  life  out  with  my  failings  ?  He  would  perhaps 
work  himself  to  death  to  satisfy  my  whims,  and  that  would 
not  be  right.  Pshaw  !  an  unluckly  lot  has  fallen  to  me,  and 
I  ought  to  bear  it  by  myself." 

"And  besides,  she  is  a  born  do-nothing,"  said  Benassis. 
"We  must  take  my  poor  Fosseuse  as  we  find  her.  But  all  that 
she  has  been  saying  to  you  simply  means  that  she  has  never 
loved  as  yet,"  he  added,  smiling.  Then  he  rose  and  went 
out  on  to  the  lawn  for  a  moment. 

"You  must  be  very  fond  of  M.  Benassis?"  asked  Genestas. 

'  Oh  !  yes,  sir ;  and  there  are  plenty  of  people  hereabouts 
who  feel  as  I  do — that  they  would  be  glad  to  do  anything 
in  the  world  for  him.  And  yet  he  who  cures  other  people 
has  some  trouble  of  his  own  that  nothing  can  cure.  You  are 
his  friend,  perhaps  you  know  what  it  is?  Who  could  have 
given  pain  to  such  a  man,  who  is  the  very  image  of  God  on 
earth?  I  know  a  great  many  here  who  think  that  the  corn 
grows  faster  if  he  has  passed  by  their  field  in  the  morning," 
she  remarked  to  Genestas. 

"And  what  do  you  think  yourself?  " 

"  I,  sir?     When  I  have  seen  him,"  she  seemed  to  hesitate, 
then  she  went  on,  "  I  am  happy  all  the  rest  of  the  day." 
9 


130  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

She  bent  her  head  over  her  work,  and  plied  her  needle  with 
unwonted  swiftness. 

"Well,  has  the  captain  been  telling  you  something  about 
Napoleon  ?  "  said  the  doctor,  as  he  came  in  again. 

"Have  you  seen  the  Emperor,  sir?"  cried  La  Fosseuse, 
gazing  at  the  officer's  face  with  eager  curiosity. 

"  Good  gracious  !  "  said  Genestas,  "  hundreds  of  times  !  " 

"  Oh  !  how  I  should  like  to  know  something  about  the 
army !  " 

**  Perhaps  we  will  come  to  take  a  cup  of  coffee  with  you 
to-morrow,  and  you  shall  hear  something  about  the  army, 
dear  child,"  said  Benassis,  who  laid  his  hand  on  her  shoulder 
and  kissed  her  brow.  "  She  is  my  daughter,  you  see  !  "  he 
added,  turning  to  the  commandant ;  *'  there  is  something 
wanting  in  the  day,  somehow,  when  I  have  not  kissed  her 
forehead." 

La  Fosseuse  held  Benassis'  hand  in  a  tight  clasp  as  she 
murmured,  **  Oh  !  you  are  very  kind  !  " 

They  left  the  house  ;  but  she  came  after  them  to  see  them 
mount.  She  waited  till  Genestas  was  in  the  saddle,  and  then 
whispered  in  Benassis'  ear,  "  Tell  me  who  that  gentleman  is?  " 

"Aha !  "  said  the  doctor,  putting  a  foot  in  the  stirrup,  "  a 
husband  for  you,  perhaps." 

She  stood  on  the  spot  where  they  left  her,  absorbed  in 
watching  their  progress  down  the  steep  path  ;  and  when  they 
came  past  the  end  of  the  garden  they  saw  her  already  perched 
on  a  little  heap  of  stones,  so  that  she  might  still  keep  them  in 
view  and  give  them  a  last  nod  of  farewell. 

"There  is  something  very  unusual  about  that  girl,  sir," 
Genestas  said  to  the  doctor  when  they  had  left  the  house  far 
behind. 

"  There  is,  is  there  not  ?  "  he  answered.  "  Many  a  time  I 
have  said  to  m)'self  that  she  will  make  a  charming  wife,  but  I 
can  only  love  her  as  a  sister  or  a  daughter,  and  in  no  other 
way  \  my  heart  is  dead." 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  131 

"  Has  she  any  relations  ?  "  asked  Genestas.  "  What  did  her 
father  and  mother  do  ?  " 

"Oh,  it  is  quite  a  long  story,"  answered  Benassis. 
"  Neither  her  father  nor  mother  nor  any  of  her  relations  are 
living.  Everything  about  her  down  to  her  name  interested 
me.  La  Fosseuse  was  born  here  in  the  town.  Her  father,  a 
laborer  from  Saint  Laurent  du  Pont,  was  nicknamed  Le  Fos- 
seur,  which  is  no  doubt  a  contraction  oi  fossoyeur,  for  the  office 
of  sexton  had  been  in  his  family  time  out  of  mind.  All  the 
sad  associations  of  the  graveyard  hang  about  the  name.  Here, 
as  in  some  other  parts  of  France,  there  is  an  old  custom, 
dating  from  the  times  of  the  Latin  civilization,  in  virtue  of 
which  a  woman  takes  her  husband's  name,  with  the  addition 
of  a  feminine  termination,  and  this  girl  has  been  called  La 
Fosseuse,  after  her  father. 

"  The  laborer  had  married  the  waiting-woman  of  some 
cbuntess  or  other  who  owns  an  estate  at  a  distance  of  a  itw 
leagues.  It  was  a  love-match.  Here,  as  m  all  country  dis- 
tricts, love  is  a  very  small  element  in  a  marriage.  The  peasant, 
as  a  rule,  wants  a  wife  who  will  bear  him  children,  a  housewife 
who  will  make  good  soup  and  take  it  out  to  him  in  the  fields, 
who  will  spin  and  make  his  shirts  and  mend  his  clothes. 
Such  a  thing  had  not  happened  for  a  long  while  in  a  district 
where  a  young  man  not  unfrequently  leaves  his  betrothed  for 
another  girl  who  is  richer  by  three  or  four  acres  of  land.  The 
fate  of  Le  Fosseur  and  his  wife  was  scarcely  happy  enough  to 
induce  our  Dauphinois  to  forsake  their  calculating  habits  and 
practical  way  of  regarding  things.  La  Fosseuse,  who  was  a 
very  pretty  woman,  died  when  her  daughter  was  born,  and 
her  husband's  grief  for  his  loss  was  so  great  that  he  followed 
her  within  the  year,  leaving  nothing  in  the  world  to  his  little 
one  except  an  existence  whose  continuance  was  very  doubtful 
— a  mere  feeble  flicker  of  a  life.  A  charitable  neighbor  took 
the  care  of  the  baby  upon  herself,  and  brought  her  up  till  she 
was  nine  years  old.     Then  the  burden  of  supporting  La  Fos- 


132  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

seuse  became  too  heavy  for  the  good  woman ;  so  at  the  time 
of  year  when  travelers  are  passing  along  the  roads,  she  sent 
her  charge  to  beg  for  her  living  upon  the  highways. 

"  One  day  the  little  orphan  asked  for  bread  at  the  countess' 
chateau,  and  they  kept  the  child  for  her  mother's  sake.  She 
was  to  be  waiting-maid  some  day  to  the  daughter  of  the  house, 
and  was  brought  up  to  this  end.  Her  young  mistress  was 
married  five  years  later ;  but  meanwhile  the  poor  little  thing  was 
the  victim  of  all  the  caprices  of  wealthy  people,  whose  benefi- 
cence for  the  most  part  is  not  to  be  depended  upon  even  while 
it  lasts.  They  are  generous  by  fits  and  starts ;  sometimes 
patrons,  sometimes  friends,  sometimes  masters,  in  this  way 
they  falsify  the  already  false  position  of  the  poor  children  in 
whom  they  interest  themselves,  and  trifle  with  the  hearts,  the 
lives,  and  futures  of  their  protegees,  whom  they  regard  very 
lightly.  From  the  first  La  Fosseuse  became  almost  a  com- 
panion to  the  young  heiress ;  she  was  taught  to  read  and 
write,  and  her  future  mistress  sometimes  amused  herself  by 
giving  her  music  lessons.  She  was  treated  sometimes  as  a 
lady's  companion,  sometimes  as  a  waiting-maid,  and  in  this 
way  they  made  an  incomplete  being  of  her.  She  acquired  a 
taste  for  luxury  and  for  dress,  together  with  manners  ill-suited 
to  her  real  position.  She  has  been  roughly  schooled  by  mis- 
fortune since  then,  but  the  vague  feeling  that  she  is  destined 
for  a  higher  lot  has  not  been  effaced  in  her. 

"  A  day  came  at  last,  however,  a  fateful  day  for  the  poor 
girl,  when  the  young  countess  (who  was  married  by  this  time) 
discovered  La  Fosseuse  arrayed  in  one  of  her  ball  dresses,  and 
dancing  before  a  mirror.  La  Fosseuse  was  no  longer  anything 
but  a  waiting-maid,  and  the  orphan  girl,  then  sixteen  years 
of  age,  was  dismissed  without  pity.  Her  idle  ways  plunged 
her  once  more  into  poverty ;  she  wandered  about  begging  by 
the  roadside,  and  working  at  times  as  I  have  told  you.  Some- 
times she  thought  of  drowning  herself,  sometimes  also  of  giv- 
ing herself  to  the  first  comer ;  she  spent  most  of  her  time  think- 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  133 

ing  dark  thoughts,  lying  by  the  side  of  a  wall  in  the  sun,  with 
her  face  buried  in  the  grass,  and  passers-by  would  sometimes 
throw  a  few  halfpence  to  her,  simply  because  she  asked  them 
for  nothing.  One  whole  year  she  spent  in  a  hospital  at  An- 
necy  after  heavy  toil  in  the  harvest-field ;  she  had  only  under- 
taken the  work  in  the  hope  that  it  would  kill  her,  and  that  so 
she  might  die.  You  should  hear  her  when  she  speaks  of 
her  feelings  and  ideas  during  this  time  of  her  life  ;  her  simple 
confidences  are  often  very  curious. 

**She  came  back  to  the  little  town  at  last,  just  about  the 
time  when  I  decided  to  take  up  my  abode  in  it.  I  wanted  to 
understand  the  minds  of  the  people  beneath  my  rule ;  her 
character  struck  me,  and  I  made  a  study  of  it ;  then  when  I 
became  aware  of  her  physical  infirmities,  I  determined  to 
watch  over  her.  Perhaps  in  time  she  may  grow  accustomed 
to  work  with  her  needle,  but,  whatever  happens,  I  have 
secured  her  future." 

"  She  is  quite  alone  up  there  !  "  said  Genestas. 

"  No.  One  of  my  herdswomen  sleeps  in  the  house,"  the 
doctor  answered.  "You  did  not  see  my  farm  buildings  which 
lie  behind  the  house.  They  are  hidden  by  the  pine-trees. 
Oh  !  she  is  quite  safe.  Moreover,  there  are  no  rough  fellows 
here  in  the  valley;  if  any  come  among  us  by  any  chance,  I 
send  them  into  the  army,  where  they  make  excellent  soldiers." 

"  Poor  girl !  "  said  Genestas. 

"  Oh  !  the  folk  round  about  do  not  pity  her  at  all,"  said  Be- 
nassis;  "on  the  other  hand,  they  think  her  very  lucky;  but 
there  is  this  difference  between  her  and  the  other  women, 
God  has  given  strength  to  them  and  weakness  to  her,  and 
they  do  not  see  that." 

The  moment  that  the  two  horsemen  came  out  upon  the 
road  to  Grenoble,  Benassis  stopped  with  an  air  of  satisfaction  ; 
a  different  view  had  suddenly  opened  out  before  them  ;  he 
foresaw  its  effect  upon  Genestas,  and  wished  to  enjoy  his 
surprise.     As  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  two  green  walls  sixty 


134  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

feet  high  rose  above  a  road  which  was  rounded  like  a  garden 
path.  The  trees  had  not  been  cut  or  trimmed,  each  one  pre- 
served a  magnificent  palm-branch  shape  that  makes  the  Lom- 
bard poplar  one  of  the  grandest  of  trees ;  there  they  stood  a 
natural  monument  which  a  man  might  well  be  proud  of  having 
reared.  The  shadow  had  already  reached  one  side  of  the 
road,  transforming  it  into  a  vast  wall  of  black  leaves,  but  the 
setting  sun  shone  full  upon  the  other  side,  which  stood  out  in 
contrast,  for  the  young  leaves  at  the  tips  of  every  branch  had 
been  dyed  a  bright  golden  hue,  and,  as  the  breeze  stirred 
through  the  waving  curtain,  it  gleamed  in  the  light. 

"  You  must  be  very  happy  here  !  "  cried  Genestas.  "  The 
sight  of  this  must  be  all  pleasure  to  you." 

**  The  love  of  nature  is  the  only  love  that  does  not  deceive 
human  hopes.  There  is  no  disappointment  here,"  said  the 
doctor.  "Those  poplars  are  ten  years  old;  have  you  ever 
seen  any  that  are  better  grown  than  these  of  mine?" 

"  God  is  great !  "  said  the  soldier,  coming  to  a  stand  in  the 
middle  of  the  road,  of  which  he  saw  neither  beginning  nor 
end. 

**  You  do  me  good,"  cried  Benassis.  "  It  was  a  pleasure  to 
hear  you  say  over  again  what  I  have  so  often  said  in  the  midst 
of  this  avenue.  There  is  something  holy  about  this  place. 
Here,  we  are  like  two  mere  specks  \  and  the  feeling  of  our 
own  littleness  always  brings  us  into  the  presence  of  God." 

They  rode  on  slowly  and  in  silence,  listening  to  their 
horses'  hoof-beats ;  the  sound  echoed  along  the  green  cor- 
ridor as  it  might  have  done  beneath  the  vaulted  roof  of  a 
cathedral. 

"  How  many  things  have  a  power  to  stir  us  which  town- 
dwellers  do  not  suspect,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Do  you  notice 
the  sweet  scent  given  off  by  the  gum  of  the  poplar  buds  and 
the  resin  of  the  larches  ?     How  delightful  it  is  !  " 

"  Listen  !  "  exclaimed  Genestas.     "  Let  us  wait  a  moment." 

A  distant  sound  of  singing  came  to  their  ears. 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  135 

"  Is  it  a  woman  or  a  man,  or  is  it  a  bird  ?  "  asked  the  com- 
mandant in  a  low  voice.  "Is  it  the  voice  of  this  wonderful 
landscape  !  " 

"It  is  something  of  all  these  things,"  the  doctor  answered, 
as  he  dismounted  and  fastened  his  horse  to  a  branch  of  a 
poplar  tree. 

He  made  a  sign  to  the  officer  to  follow  his  example  and  to 
come  with  him.  They  went  slowly  along  a  footpath  between 
two  hedges  of  blossoming  hawthorn  which  filled  the  damp 
evening  air  with  its  delicate  fragrance.  The  sun  shone  full 
into  the  pathway ;  the  light  and  warmth  were  very  perceptible 
after  the  shade  thrown  by  the  long  wall  of  poplar  trees ;  the 
still  powerful  rays  poured  a  flood  of  red  light  over  a  cot- 
tage at  the  end  of  the  stony  track.  The  ridge  of  the  cottage 
roof  was  usually  a  bright  green  with  its  overgrowth  of  mosses 
and  house-leeks,  and  the  thatch  was  brown  as  a  chestnut  shell, 
but  just  now  it  seemed  to  be  powdered  with  a  golden  dust. 
The  cottage  itself  was  scarcely  visible  through  the  haze  of 
light ;  the  ruinous  wall,  the  doorway  and  everything  about  it 
were  radiant  with  a  fleeting  glory  and  a  beauty  due  to  chance, 
such  as  is  sometimes  seen  for  an  instant  in  a  human  face,  be- 
neath the  influence  of  a  strong  emotion  that  brings  warmth 
and  color  into  it.  In  a  life  under  the  open  sky  and  among 
the  fields,  the  transient  and  tender  grace  of  such  moments  as 
these  draws  from  us  the  wish  of  the  apostle  who  said  to  Jesus 
Christ  upon  the  mountain,  "Let  us  build  a  tabernacle  and 
dwell  here. ' ' 

The  wide  landscape  seemed  at  that  moment  to  have  found 
a  voice  whose  purity  and  sweetness  equaled  its  own  sweetness 
and  purity,  a  voice  as  mournful  as  the  dying  light  in  the  west 
— for  a  vague  reminder  of  death  is  divinely  set  in  the  heavens, 
and  the  sun  above  gives  the  same  warning  that  is  given  here 
on  earth  by  the  flowers  and  the  bright  insects  of  a  day.  There 
is  a  tinge  of  sadness  about  the  radiance  of  sunset,  and  the 
melody  was  sad.     It  was  a  song  widely  known  in  days  of  yore, 


136  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

a  ballad  of  love  and  sorrow  that  once  had  served  to  stir  the 
national  hatred  of  France  for  England.  Beaumarchais,  in  a 
later  day,  had  given  it  back  its  true  poetry  by  adapting  it  for 
the  French  theatre  and  putting  it  into  the  mouth  of  a  page, 
who  pours  out  his  heart  to  his  stepmother.  Just  now  it  was 
simply  the  air  that  rose  and  fell.  There  were  no  words ;  the 
plaintive  voice  of  the  singer  touched  and  thrilled  the  soul. 

"  It  is  the  swan's  song,"  said  Benassis.  ''That  voice  does 
not  sound  twice  in  a  century  for  human  ears.  Let  us  hurry ; 
we  must  put  a  stop  to  the  singing  !  The  child  is  killing  him- 
self; it  would  be  cruel  to  listen  to  him  any  longer.  Be  quiet, 
Jacques  !     Come,  come,  be  quiet  1  "  cried  the  doctor. 

The  music  ceased.  Genestas  stood  motionless  and  over- 
come with  astonishment.  A  cloud  had  drifted  across  the  sun, 
the  landscape  and  the  voice  were  both  mute.  Shadow,  chill- 
ness,  and  silence  had  taken  the  place  of  the  soft  glory  of  the 
light,  the  warm  breath  of  the  breeze,  and  the  child's  singing. 

"  What  makes  you  disobey  me  ?  "  asked  Benassis.  "  I  shall 
not  bring  you  any  more  rice  pudding  nor  snail  broth  !  No 
more  fresh  dates  and  white  bread  for  you  !  So  you  want  to 
die  and  break  your  poor  mother's  heart,  do  you  ?  " 

Genestas  came  into  a  little  yard,  which  was  sufficiently  clean 
and  tidily  kept,  and  saw  before  him  a  lad  of  fifteen,  who 
looked  as  delicate  as  a  woman.  His  hair  was  fair  but  scanty, 
and  the  color  in  his  face  was  so  bright  that  it  seemed  hardly 
natural.  He  rose  up  slowly  from  the  bench  where  he  was 
sitting,  beneath  a  thick  bush  of  jessamine  and  some  blossom- 
ing lilacs  that  were  running  riot,  so  that  he  was  almost  hidden 
among  the  leaves. 

"You  know  very  well,"  said  the  doctor,  "  that  I  told  you 
not  to  talk,  not  to  expose  yourself  to  the  chilly  evening  air, 
and  to  go  to  bed  as  soon  as  the  sun  was  set.  What  put  it  into 
your  head  to  sing?  " 

**  Well !  M.  Benassis,  it  was  so  very  warm  out  here,  and 
it  is  so  nice  to  feel  warm  !    I  am  always  cold.    I  felt  so  happy 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUiYD.  137 

that  without  thinking  I  began  to  try  over  '  Malbroiik  goes  to 
the  Wars,'  just  for  fun,  and  tlien  I  began  to  listen  to  myself 
because  my  voice  was  something  like  the  sound  of  the  flute 
your  shepherd  plays." 

"Well,  my  poor  Jacques,  this  must  not  happen  again;  do 
you  hear?  Let  me  have  your  hand,"  and  the  doctor  felt  his 
pulse. 

The  boy's  eyes  had  their  usual  sweet  expression,  but  just 
now  they  shone  with  a  feverish  light. 

"  It  is  just  as  I  thought,  you  are  covered  with  perspiration," 
said  Benassis.      "  Your  mother  has  not  come  in  yet  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

"  Come  !  go  indoors  and  get  into  bed." 

The  young  invalid  went  back  into  the  cottage,  followed  by 
Benassis  and  the  officer. 

"Just  light  a  candle.  Captain  Bluteau,"  said  the  doctor, 
who  was  helping  Jacques  to  take  off  his  rough,  tattered 
clothing. 

When  Genestas  had  struck  a  light,  and  the  interior  of  the 
room  was  visible,  he  was  surprised  by  the  extreme  thinness  of 
the  child,  who  seemed  to  be  little  more  than  skin  and  bone. 
When  the  little  peasant  had  been  put  to  bed,  Benassis  tapped 
the  lad's  chest,  and  listened  to  the  ominous  sounds  made  in 
this  way  by  his  fingers;  then,  after  some  deliberation,  he 
drew  back  the  coverlet  over  Jacques,  stepped  back  a  few  paces, 
folded  his  arms  across  his  chest,  and  closely  scrutinized  his 
patient. 

"  How  do  you  feel,  my  little  man  ?  " 

"  Quite  comfortable,  sir." 

A  table,  with  four  spindle  legs,  stood  in  the  room  ;  the 
doctor  drew  it  up  to  the  bed,  found  a  tumbler  and  a  phial  on 
the  mantle-shelf,  and  composed  a  draught,  by  carefully  meas- 
uring a  few  drops  of  brown  liquid  from  the  phial  into  some 
water,  Genestas  holding  the  light  the  while. 

"Your  mother  is  very  late." 


138  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"She  is  coming,  sir,"  said  the  child;  "I  can  hear  her 
footsteps  on  the  path." 

The  doctor  and  the  officer  looked  around  them  while  they 
waited.  At  the  foot  of  the  bed  there  was  a  sort  of  mattress 
made  of  moss,  on  which,  doubtless,  the  mother  was  wont  to 
sleep  in  her  clothes,  for  there  were  neither  sheets  nor  coverlet. 
Genestas  pointed  out  this  bed  to  Benassis,  who  nodded  slightly 
to  show  that  he  likewise  had  already  admired  this  motherly 
devotion.  There  was  a  clatter  of  sabots  in  the  yard,  and  the 
doctor  went  out. 

"You  will  have  to  sit  up  with  Jacques  to-night,  Mother 
Colas.  If  he  tells  you  that  his  breathing  is  bad,  you  must  let 
him  drink  some  of  the  draught  that  I  have  poured  into  the 
tumbler  on  the  table.  Take  care  not  to  let  him  have  more 
than  two  or  three  sips  at  a  time;  there  ought  to  be  enough  in 
the  tumbler  to  last  him  all  through  the  night.  Above  all 
things,  do  not  touch  the  phial,  and  change  the  child's  cloth- 
ing at  once.     He  is  perspiring  heavily," 

"I  could  not  manage  to  wash  his  shirts  to-day,  sir  ;  I  had 
to  take  the  hemp  over  to  Grenoble,  as  we  wanted  the  money." 

"  Very  well,  then,  I  will  send  you  some  shirts." 

"  Then  is  he  worse,  my  poor  lad  ?  "  asked  the  woman. 

"  He  has  been  so  imprudent  as  to  sing.  Mother  Colas;  and 
it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  any  good  can  come  of,  it ;  but  do 
not  be  hard  upon  him,  nor  scold  him.  Do  not  be  down- 
hearted about  it ;  and  if  Jacques  complains  overmuch,  send  a 
neighbor  to  fetch  me.     Good-bye." 

The  doctor  called  to  his  friend,  and  they  went  back  along 
the  footpath, 

"  Is  that  little  peasant  consumptive?  "  asked  Genestas, 

*'■  Mon  Dieu  !  yes,"  answered  Benassis.  "Science  cannot 
save  him,  unless  nature  works  a  miracle.  Our  professors  at 
the  School  of  Medicine  in  Paris  often  used  to  speak  to  us  of 
the  phenomenon  which  you  have  just  witnessed.  Some 
maladies  of  this  kind  bring  about  changes  in  the  voice-pro- 


THE    MAN     OF    WHOM     HE     WAS     IN     SEARCH     SCON     APPEARED 
ON    THE    TOP    OF    A    PERPENDICULAR    CRAG. 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  139 

ducing  organs  that  give  the  sufferer  a  short-lived  power  of 
song  that  no  trained  voice  can  surpass.  I  have  made  you 
spend  a  melancholy  day,  sir,"  said  the  doctor  when  he  was 
once  more  in  the  saddle.  "  Suffering  and  death  everywhere, 
but  everywhere  also  resignation.  All  these  peasant  folk  take 
death  philosophically  ;  they  fall  ill,  say  nothing  about  it,  and 
take  to  their  beds  like  dumb  animals.  But  let  us  say  no  more 
about  death,  and  let  us  quicken  our  horses'  paces  a  little  ;  we 
ought  to  reach  the  town  before  nightfall,  so  that  you  may  see 
the  new  quarter." 

"Eh!  some  place  is  on  fire  over  there,"  said  Genestas, 
pointing  to  a  spot  on  the  mountain,  where  a  sheaf  of  flames 
was  rising. 

"  It  is  not  a  dangerous  fire.  Our  lime-burner  is  heating  his 
kiln,  no  doubt.  It  is  a  newly-started  industry,  which  turns 
our  heather  to  account." 

There  was  a  sudden  report  of  a  gun,  followed  by  an 
involuntary  exclamation  from  Benassis,  who  said,  with  an 
impatient  gesture,  "  If  that  is  Butifer,  we  shall  see  which  of 
us  two  is  the  stronger." 

•*  The  shot  came  from  that  quarter,"  said  Genestas,  indica- 
ting a  beechwood  up  above  them  on  the  mountain  side. 
"Yes,  up  there;  you  may  trust  an  old  soldier's  ear." 

"Let  us  go  there  at  once  !  "  cried  Benassis,  and  he  made 
straight  for  the  little  wood,  urging  his  horse  at  a  furious  speed 
across  the  ditches  and  fields,  as  if  he  were  riding  a  steeple- 
chase, in  his  anxiety  to  catch  the  sportsman  red-handed. 

"  The  man  you  are  after  has  made  off,"  shouted  Genestas, 
who  could  scarcely  keep  up  with  him. 

Benassis  wheeled  his  horse  round  sharply,  and  came  back 
again.  The  man  of  whom  he  was  in  search  soon  appeared  on 
the  top  of  a  perpendicular  crag,  a  hundred  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  two  horsemen, 

"Butifer!  "  shouted  Benassis  when  he  saw  that  this  figure 
carried  a  fowling-piece  ;  "  come  down !  " 


140  THE    CO  U A  TRY  DOCTOR. 

Butifer  recognized  the  doctor,  and  replied  by  a  respectful 
and  friendly  sign  which  showed  that  he  had  every  intention 
of  obeying. 

"  I  can  imagine  that  if  a  man  were  driven  to  it  by  fear  or 
by  some  overmastering  impulse  he  might  possibly  contrive  to 
scramble  up  to  that  point  among  the  rocks,"  said  Genestas ; 
**  but  how  will  he  manage  to  come  down  again  ?  " 

"I  have  no  anxiety  on  that  score,"  answered  Benassis  j 
"  the  wild  goats  must  feel  envious  of  that  fellow  yonder  ! 
You  will  see." 

The  emergencies  of  warfare  had  accustomed  the  com- 
mandant to  gauge  the  real  worth  of  men  ;  he  admired  the 
wonderful  quickness  of  Butifer's  movements,  the  sure-footed 
grace  with  which  the  hunter  swung  himself  down  the  rugged 
sides  of  the  crag,  to  the  top  of  which  he  had  so  boldly 
climbed.  The  strong,  slender  form  of  the  mountaineer  was 
gracefully  poised  in  every  attitude  which  the  precipitous 
nature  of  the  path  compelled  him  to  assume ;  and  so  certain 
did  he  seem  of  his  power  to  hold  on  at  need  that,  if  the  pin- 
nacle of  rock  on  which  he  took  his  stand  had  been  a  level 
floor,  he  could  not  have  set  his  foot  down  upon  it  more 
calmly.  He  carried  his  fowling-piece  as  if  it  had  been  a  light 
walking-cane.  Butifer  was  a  young  man  of  middle  height, 
thin,  muscular,  and  in  good  training ;  his  beauty  was  of  a 
masculine  order,  which  impressed  Genestas  on  a  closer  view. 

Evidently  he  belonged  to  the  class  of  smugglers  who  ply 
their  trade  without  resorting  to  violent  courses,  and  who  only 
exert  patience  and  craft  to  defraud  the  government.  His  face 
was  manly  and  sunburnt.  His  eyes,  which  were  bright  as  an 
eagle's,  were  of  a  clear  yellow  color,  and  his  sharply-cut  nose 
with  its  slight  curve  at  the  tip  was  very  much  like  an  eagle's 
beak.  His  cheeks  were  covered  with  down,  his  red  lips  were 
half-open,  giving  a  glimpse  of  a  set  of  teeth  of  dazzling 
whiteness.  His  beard,  mustache,  and  the  reddish  whiskers, 
which  he  allowed  to  grow,  and  which  curled  naturally,  still 


A   DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  141 

further  heightened  the  masculine  and  forbidding  expression 
of  his  face.  Everything  about  him  spoke  of  strength.  He 
was  broad-chested  ;  constant  activity  had  made  the  muscles 
of  his  hands  curiously  firm  and  prominent.  There  was  the 
quick  intelligence  of  a  savage  about  his  glances;  he  looked 
resolute,  fearless,  and  imperturbable,  like  a  man  accustomed 
to  put  his  life  in  peril,  and  whose  physical  and  mental  strength 
had  been  so  often  tried  by  dangers  of  every  kind,  that  he  no 
longer  felt  any  doubts  about  himself.  He  wore  a  blouse  that 
had  suffered  a  good  deal  from  thorns  and  briars,  and  he  had  a 
pair  of  leather  soles  bound  to  his  feet  by  eel-skin  thongs,  and 
a  pair  of  torn  and  tattered  blue  linen  breeches  through  which 
his  legs  were  visible,  red,  wiry,  hard,  and  muscular  as  those 
of  a  stag. 

"There  you  see  the  man  who  once  fired  a  shot  at  me," 
Benassis  remarked  to  the  commandant,  in  a  low  voice.  "  If 
at  this  moment  I  were  to  signify  to  him  my  desire  to  be  rid 
of  any  one,  he  would  kill  them  without  scruple.  Butifer," 
he  went  on,  addressing  the  poacher,  "  1  fully  believed  you  to 
be  a  man  of  your  word  ;  I  pledged  mine  for  you  because  I 
had  your  promise.  My  promise  to  the  king's  officer  at 
Grenoble  was  based  upon  your  vow  never  to  go  poaching 
again,  and  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf  and  become  a  steady, 
industrious  worker.  You  fired  that  shot  just  now,  and  here 
you  are,  on  the  Comte  de  Labranchoir's  estate  !  Eh  !  you 
miscreant?  Suppose  his  keeper  had  happened  to  hear  you? 
It  is  a  lucky  thing  for  you  that  I  shall  take  no  formal  cog- 
nizance of  this  offence  ;  if  I  did,  you  would  come  up  as  an 
old  offender,  and  of  course  you  would  have  no  gun  license  ! 
I  let  you  keep  that  gun  of  yours  out  of  tenderness  for  your 
attachment  to  the  weapon." 

"It  is  a  beauty,"  said  the  commandant,  who  recognized  a 
duck  gun  from  Saint  Etienne. 

The  smuggler  raised  his  head  and  looked  at  Genestas  by 
way  of  acknowledging  the  compliment. 


142  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"Butifer,"  continued  Benassis,  "if  your  conscience  does 
not  reproach  you,  it  ought  to  do  so.  If  you  are  going  to 
begin  your  old  tricks  again,  you  will  find  yourself  once  more 
in  a  park  enclosed  by  four  stone  walls,  and  no  power  on 
earth  will  save  you  from  the  hulks;  you  will  be  a  marked 
man,  and  your  character  will  be  ruined.  Bring  your  gun  to 
me  to-night,  I  will  take  care  of  it  for  you." 

Butifer  gripped  the  barrel  of  his  weapon  in  a  convulsive 
clutch,  and,  after  a  few  moments'  reflection,  he  raised  his 
face  to  the  doctor's. 

"  You  are  quite  right,  sir,"  he  said  ;  "I  have  done  wrong. 
I  have  broken  bounds,  I  am  a  cur.  My  gun  ought  to  go  to 
you,  but  when  you  take  it  away  from  me,  you  take  all  that  I 
have  in  the  world.     The  last  shot  which  my  mother's  son  will 

fire  shall  be  through  my  own  head. What  would  you  have? 

I  did  as  you  wanted  me.  I  kept  quiet  all  the  winter ;  but  the 
spring  came,  and  the  sap  rose.  I  am  not  used  to  day  labor. 
It  is  not  in  my  nature  to  spend  my  life  in  fattening  fowls;  I 
cannot  stoop  about  turning  over  the  soil  for  vegetables,  nor 
flourish  a  whip  and  drive  a  cart,  nor  scrub  down  a  horse  in  a 
stable  all  my  life,  so  I  must  die  of  starvation,  I  suppose.  I 
am  only  happy  when  I  am  up  there,"  he  went  on  after  a 
pause,  pointing  to  the  mountains.  "  And  I  have  been  about 
among  the  hills  for  the  past  week  ;  I  got  a  sight  of  a  chamois, 
and  I  have  the  chamois  there,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  top 
of  the  crag;  "it  is  at  your  service!  Dear  M.  Benassis, 
leave  me  my  gun.  Listen  !  I  will  leave  the  commune,  on 
my  faith  !  I  will  go  to  the  Alps ;  the  chamois  hunters  will  not 
say  a  word ;  on  the  contrary,  they  will  receive  me  with  open 
arms.  I  shall  come  to  grief  at  the  bottom  of  some  glacier ; 
but,  if  I  am  to  speak  my  mind,  I  would  rather  live  for  a 
couple  of  years  among  the  heights,  where  there  are  no  govern- 
ments, nor  excisemen,  nor  gamekeepers,  nor  procureurs  du  roi, 
than  grovel  in  a  marsh  for  a  century.  You  are  the  only  one 
that  I  shall  be  sorry  to  leave  behind ;  all  the  rest  of  them 


A   DOCTOR'S  HOUND.  143 

bore  me  !  When  you  are  in  the  right,  at  any  rate  you  don't 
worry  one's  life  out " 

"And  how  about  Louise?"  asked  Benassis.  Butifer  paused 
and  turned  thoughtful. 

"Eh!  learn  to  read  and  write,  my  lad,"  said  Genestas ; 
*' come  and  enlist  in  my  regiment,  have  a  horse  to  ride,  and 
turn  carbineer.  If  they  once  sound  '  lo  horse  '  for  something 
like  a  war,  you  will  find  out  that  Providence  made  you  to  live 
in  the  midst  of  cannon,  bullets,  and  battalions,  and  they  will 
make  a  general  of  you." 

"  Ye-es,  if  Napoleon  was  back  again,"  answered  Butifer. 

"You  know  our  agreement,"  said  the  doctor.  "  At  the 
second  infraction  of  it,  you  undertook  to  go  for  a  soldier.  I 
give  you  six  months  in  which  to  learn  to  read  and  write,  and 
then  I  will  look  up  some  young  gentleman  who  wants  a  sub- 
stitute." 

Butifer  looked  at  the  mountains. 

"Oh!  you  shall  not  go  to  the  Alps,"  cried  Benassis.  "A 
man  like  you,  a  man  of  his  word,  with  plenty  of  good  stuff 
in  him,  ought  to  serve  his  country  and  command  a  brigade, 
and  not  come  to  his  end  trailing  after  a  chamois.  The  life 
that  you  are  leading  will  take  you  straight  to  the  convict's 
prison.  After  overfatiguing  yourself,  you  are  obliged  to 
take  a  long  rest ;  and,  in  the  end,  you  will  fall  into  idle  ways 
that  will  be  the  ruin  of  any  notions  of  orderly  existence  that 
you  have  ;  you  will  get  into  the  habit  of  putting  your  strength 
to  bad  uses,  and  you  will  take  the  law  into  your  own  hands. 
I  want  to  put  you,  in  spite  of  yourself,  into  the  right  path." 

"So  I  am  to  pine  and  fret  myself  to  death?  I  feel  suffo- 
cated whenever  I  am  in  a  town.  I  cannot  hold  out  for  more 
than  a  day,  in  Grenoble,  when  I  take  Louise  there,"  Butifer 
dejectedly  replied. 

"We  all  have  our  whims,  which  we  must  manage  to  control, 
or  turn  them  to  account  for  our  neighbor's  benefit.  But  it  is 
late,  and  I  am  in  a  hurry.     Come  to  see  me  to-morrow,  and 


144  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

bring  your  gun  along  with  you.  We  will  talk  this  over,  my  boy. 
Good-bye.     Go  and  sell  your  chamois  in  Grenoble." 

The  two  horsemen  went  on  their  way. 

*'  That  is  what  I  call  a  man,"  said  Genestas. 

"A  man  in  a  bad  way,"  answered  Benassis.  "  But  what 
help  is  there  for  it  ?  You  heard  what  he  said.  Is  it  not 
lamentable  to  see  such  fine  qualities  running  to  waste  ?  If 
France  were  invaded  by  a  foreign  foe,  Butifer  at  the  head  of  a 
hundred  young  fellows  would  keep  a  whole  division  busy  in 
Maurienne  for  a  month ;  but  in  a  time  of  peace  the  only  outlets 
for  his  energy  are  those  which  set  the  law  at  defiance.  He 
must  wrestle  with  something ;  whenever  he  is  not  risking  his 
neck  he  is  at  odds  with  society,  he  lends  a  helping  hand  to 
smugglers.  The  rogue  will  cross  the  Rhone,  all  by  himself, 
in  a  little  boat,  to  take  shoes  over  into  Savoy ;  he  makes  good 
his  retreat,  heavy  laden  as  he  is,  to  some  inaccessible  place 
high  up  among  the  hills,  where  he  stays  for  two  days  at  a 
time,  living  on  dry  crusts.  In  short,  danger  is  as  welcome  to 
him  as  sleep  would  be  to  anybody  else,  and  by  dint  of  expe- 
rience he  has  acquired  a  relish  for  extreme  sensations  that  has 
totally  unfitted  him  for  ordinary  life.  It  vexes  me  that  a  man 
like  that  should  take  a  wrong  turn  and  gradually  go  to  the 
bad,  become  a  bandit,  and  die  on  the  gallows.  But  see,  cap- 
tain, how  our  village  looks  from  here  !  " 

Genestas  obtained  a  distant  view  of  a  wide  circular  space, 
planted  with  trees,  a  fountain  surrounded  by  poplars  stood  in 
the  middle  of  it.  Round  the  enclosure  were  high  banks  on 
which  a  triple  line  of  trees  of  different  kinds  were  growing ; 
the  first  row  consisted  of  acacias,  the  second  of  Japanese 
varnish  trees,  and  some  young  elms  grew  on  the  highest  row 
of  all. 

"That  is  where  we  hold  our  fair,"  said  Benassis.  *'  That 
is  the  beginning  of  the  High  Street,  by  those  two  handsome 
houses  that  I  told  you  about  ;  one  belongs  to  the  notary,  and 
the  other  to  the  justice  of  the  peace," 


A  DOCTOR'S  ROUND.  146 

They  came  at  that  moment  into  a  broad  road,  fairly  evenly 
paved  with  large  cobble-stones.  There  were  altogether  about 
a  hundred  new  houses  on  either  side  of  it,  and  almost  every 
house  stood  in  a  garden. 

The  view  of  the  church  with  its  doorway  made  a  pretty 
termination  to  this  road.  Two  more  roads  had  been  recently 
planned  out  half-way  down  the  course  of  the  first,  and  many 
new  houses  had  already  been  built  along  them.  The  town-hall 
stood  opposite  the  parsonage,  in  the  square  by  the  church.  As 
Benassis  went  down  the  road,  women  and  children  and  men 
who  had  just  finished  their  day's  work  promptly  appeared  in 
their  doorways  to  wish  him  good-evening,  tlie  men  took  off 
their  caps,  and  the  little  children  danced  and  shouted  about 
his  horse,  as  if  the  animal's  good-nature  were  as  well  known 
as  the  kindness  of  its  master.  The  gladness  was  undemonstra- 
tive ;  there  was  the  instinctive  delicacy  of  all  deep  feeling 
about  it,  and  it  had  the  same  persuasive  power.  At  the  sight 
of  this  welcome  it  seemed  to  Genestas  that  the  doctor  had  been 
too  modest  in  his  description  of  the  affection  with  which  he 
was  regarded  by  the  people  of  the  district.  His  truly  was  a 
sovereignty  of  the  sweetest  kind ;  a  right  royal  sovereignty, 
moreover,  for  its  title  was  engraven  in  the  hearts  of  its  subjects. 
However  dazzling  the  rays  of  glory  that  surround  a  man,  how- 
ever great  the  power  that  he  enjoys,  in  his  inmost  soul  he  soon 
comes  to  a  just  estimate  of  the  sentiments  that  all  external 
action  causes  for  him.  He  very  soon  sees  that  no  change  has 
been  wrought  in  him,  that  there  is  nothing  new  and  nothing 
greater  in  the  exercise  of  his  physical  faculties,  and  discovers 
his  own  real  nothingness.  Kings,  even  should  they  rule  over 
the  whole  world,  are  condemned  to  live  in  a  narrow  circle  like 
other  men.  They  must  even  submit  to  the  conditions  of  their 
lot,  and  their  happiness  depends  upon  the  personal  impres- 
sions that  they  receive.  But  Benassis  met  with  nothing  but 
good-will  and  loyalty  throughout  the  district. 
10 


m. 

THE  NAPOLEON  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 

"  Pray,  come  in  sir!  "  cried  Jacquotte.  "A  pretty  time 
the  gentlemen  have  been  waiting  for  you  !  It  is  always  the 
way  !  You  always  manage  to  spoil  the  dinner  for  me  when- 
ever it  ought  to  be  particularly  good.  Everything  is  cooked 
to  death  by  this  time " 

"  Oh  !  well,  here  we  are,"  answered  Benassis  with  a  smile. 

The  two  horsemen  dismounted,  and  './ent  off  to  the  salon, 
where  the  guests  invited  by  the  doctor  were  assembled. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  taking  Genestas  by  the  hand,  "I 
have  the  honor  of  introducing  to  you  M.  Bluteau,  captain  of 
a  regiment  of  cavalry  stationed  at  Grenoble — an  old  soldier, 
who  has  promised  me  that  he  will  stay  among  us  for  a  little 
while." 

Then,  turning  to  Genestas,  he  presented  to  him  a  tall,  thin, 
gray-haired  man,  dressed  in  black. 

"This  gentleman,"  said  Benassis,  "  is  M.  Dufau,  the  justice- 
of  the  peace,  of  whom  I  have  already  spoken  to  you,  and  who 
has  so  largely  contributed  to  the  prosperity  of  the  commune." 
Then  he  led  his  guest  up  to  a  pale,  slight  young  man  of 
middle  height,  who  wore  spectacles,  and  was  also  dressed  in 
black.  "And  this  is  M.  Tonnelet,"  he  went  on,  "  M. 
Gravier's  son-in-law,  and  the  first  notary  who  came  to  live  in 
the  village." 

The  doctor  next  turned  to  a  stout  man,  who  seemed  to  be- 
long half  to  the  peasant,  half  to  the  middle  class,  the  owner 
of  a  rough-pimpled  but  good-humored  countenance. 

"This  is  my  worthy  colleague,  M.  Cambon,"  he  went  on, 
"  the  timber  merchant,  to  whom  I  owe  the  confidence  and 
good-will  of  the  people  here.     He  was  one  of  the  promoters 
(146) 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF   THE   PEOPLE.  147 

of  the  road  which  you  have  admired.  I  liave  no  need  to  tell 
you  the  profession  of  this  gentleman,"  Benassis  added,  turn- 
ing to  the  curate.  "Here  is  a  man  whom  no  one  can  help 
loving." 

There  was  an  irresistible  attraction  in  the  moral  beauty 
expressed  by  the  cure's  countenance,  which  engrossed  Gen- 
estas'  attention.  Yet  a  certain  harshness  and  austerity  of 
outline  might  make  M.  Janvier's  face  seem  unpleasing  at  a 
first  glance.  His  attitude,  and  his  slight,  emaciated  frame, 
showed  that  he  was  far  from  strong  physically,  but  the  un- 
changing serenity  of  his  face  bore  witness  to  the  profound 
inward  peace  of  the  Christian  and  to  the  strength  that  comes 
from  purity  of  heart.  Heaven  seemed  to  be  reflected  in  his 
eyes,  and  the  inextinguishable  fervor  of  charity  which  glowed 
in  his  heart  appeared  to  shine  from  them.  The  gestures  that 
he  made  but  rarely  were  simple  and  natural,  his  appeared 
to  be  a  quiet  and  retiring  nature,  and  there  was  a  modesty 
and  simplicity  like  that  of  a  young  girl  about  his  actions. 
At  first  sight  he  inspired  respect  and  a  vague  desire  to  be  ad- 
mitted to  his  friendship. 

"  Ah  !  M.  le  Maire,"  he  said,  bending  as  though  to  escape 
from  Benassis'  eulogium. 

Something  in  the  cure's  tones  brought  a  thrill  to  Genestas' 
heart,  and  the  two  insignificant  words  uttered  by  this  stranger 
priest  plunged  him  into  musings  that  were  almost  devout. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Jacquotte,  who  came  into  the  middle 
of  the  room,  and  there  took  her  stand,  with  her  hands  on  her 
hips,  "  the  soup  is  on  the  table." 

Invited  by  Benassis,  who  summoned  each  in  turn  so  as  to 
avoid  questions  of  precedence,  the  doctor's  five  guests  went 
into  the  dining-room  ;  and  after  the  cure,  in  low  and  quiet 
tones,  had  repeated  a  Benedicite,  they  took  their  places  at  table. 
The  cloth  that  covered  the  table  was  of  that  peculiar  kind  of 
damask  linen  invented  in  the  time  of  Henry  IV.  by  the  brothers 
Graindorge,  the  skilful  weavers,  who  gave  their  name  to  the 


148  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

heavy  fabric  so  well  known  to  housekeepers.  The  linen  was 
of  dazzling  whiteness,  and  fragrant  with  the  scent  of  the 
thyme  that  Jacquotte  always  put  in  her  washtubs.  The  dinner 
service  was  of  white  porcelain,  edged  with  blue,  and  was 
in  perfect  order.  The  decanters  were  of  the  old-fashioned 
octagonal  kind  still  in  use  in  the  provinces,  though  they  have 
disappeared  elsewhere.  Grotesque  figures  had  been  carved 
on  the  horn  handles  of  the  knives.  These  relics  of  ancient 
splendor,  which,  nevertheless,  looked  almost  new,  seemed  to 
those  who  scrutinized  them  to  be  in  keeping  with  the  kindly 
and  open-hearted  nature  of  the  master  of  the  house. 

The  lid  of  the  soup-tureen  drew  a  momentary  glance  from 
Genestas ;  he  noticed  that  it  was  surmounted  by  a  group  of 
vegetables  in  high  relief,  and  most  skilfully  colored  after  the 
manner  of  Bernard  Palissy,  the  celebrated  sixteenth  century 
craftsman. 

There  was  no  lack  of  character  about  the  group  of  men 
thus  assembled.  The  powerful  heads  of  Genestas  and 
Benassis  contrasted  admirably  with  M.  Janvier's  apostolic 
countenance ;  and  in  the  same  fashion  the  elderly  faces  of  the 
justice  of  the  peace  and  the  deputy-mayor  brought  out  the 
youthfulness  of  the  notary.  Society  seemed  to  be  represented 
by  these  various  types.  The  expression  of  each  one  indicated 
contentment  with  himself  and  with  the  present,  and  a  faith  in 
the  future.  M.  Tonnelet  and  M.  Janvier,  who  were  still 
young,  loved  to  make  forecasts  of  coming  events,  for  they  felt 
that  the  future  was  theirs  ;  while  the  other  guests  were  fain 
rather  to  turn  their  talk  upon  the  past.  All  of  them  faced 
the  things  of  life  seriously,  and  their  opinions  seemed  to 
reflect  a  double  tinge  of  soberness,  on  the  one  hand,  from  the 
twilight  hues  of  wellnigh  forgotten  joys  that  could  never 
more  be  revived  for  them ;  and,  on  the  other,  from  the  gray 
dawn  which  gave  promise  of  a  glorious  day. 

"  You  must  have  had  a  very  tiring  day,  sir?  "  said  M.  Cam- 
bon,  addressing  the  cure. 


THE   NAPOLEON   OF   THE   PEOPLE.  149 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  M.  Janvier,  "the  poor  cretin  and 
Pere  Pelletier  were  buried  at  different  hours." 

"Now  we  can  pull  down  all  the  hovels  of  the  old  village," 
Benassis  remarked  to  his  deputy.  "  When  the  space  on  which 
the  houses  stand  has  been  grubbed  up,  it  will  mean  at  least 
another  acre  of  meadow  land  for  us  ;  and,  furthermore,  there 
will  be  a  clear  saving  to  the  commune  of  the  hundred  francs 
that  it  used  to  cost  to  keep  Chautard  the  cretin." 

"  For  the  next  three  years  we  ought  to  lay  out  the  hundred 
francs  in  making  a  single-span  bridge  to  carry  the  lower  road 
over  the  main  stream,"  said  M.  Cambon.  "The  townsfolk 
and  the  people  down  the  valley  have  fallen  into  the  way  of 
taking  a  short  cut  across  that  patch  of  land  of  Jean  Francois 
Pastoureau's  ;  before  they  have  done  they  will  cut  it  up  in  a 
way  that  will  do  a  lot  of  harm  to  that  poor  fellow." 

"  I  am  sure  that  the  money  could  not  be  put  to  a  better 
use,"  said  the  justice  of  the  peace.  "  In  my  opinion  the 
abuse  of  the  right  of  way  is  one  of  the  worst  nuisances  in  a 
country  district.  One-tenth  of  the  cases  that  come  before 
the  court  are  caused  by  unfair  easements.  The  rights  of 
property  are  infringed  in  this  way  almost  with  impunity  in 
many  and  many  a  commune.  A  respect  for  law  and  a  respect 
for  property  are  ideas  too  often  disregarded  in  France,  and  it 
is  most  important  that  they  should  be  inculcated.  Many 
people  think  that  there  is  something  dishonorable  in  assisting 
the  law  to  take  its  course.  '  Go  and  be  hanged  somewhere 
else '  is  a  saying  which  seems  to  be  dictated  by  an  unpraise- 
worthy  generosity  of  feeling ;  but  at  bottom  it  is  nothing  but 
a  hypocritical  formula — a  sort  of  veil  which  we  throw  over 
our  own  selfishness.  Let  us  own  to  it,  we  lack  patriotism  ! 
The  true  patriot  is  the  citizen  who  is  so  deeply  impressed  with 
a  sense  of  the  importance  of  the  laws  that  he  will  see  them 
carried  out  even  at  his  own  cost  and  inconvenience.  If  you 
let  the  criminal  go  in  peace,  are  you  not  making  yourself 
answerable  for  the  crimes  he  will  commit  ?  " 


150  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"It  is  all  of  a  piece,"  said  Benassis.  "  If  the  mayors  kept 
their  roads  in  better  order,  there  would  not  be  so  many  foot- 
paths. And  if  the  members  of  the  municipal  councils  knew 
a  little  better,  they  would  uphold  the  small  landowner  and 
the  mayor  when  the  two  combine  to  oppose  the  establishment 
of  unfair  easements.  The  fact  that  chateau,  cottage,  field  and 
tree  are  all  equally  sacred  would  then  be  brought  home  in 
every  way  to  the  ignorant ;  they  would  be  made  to  understand 
that  right  is  just  the  same  in  all  cases,  whether  the  value  of 
the  property  in  question  be  large  or  small.  But  such  salutary 
changes  cannot  be  brought  about  all  at  once.  They  depend 
almost  entirely  on  the  moral  condition  of  the  population, 
which  we  can  never  completely  reform  without  the  potent  aid 
of  the  cures.  This  remark  does  not  apply  to  you  in  any  way, 
M,  Janvier." 

"Nor  do  I  take  it  to  myself,"  laughed  the  cur6.  "Is  not 
my  heart  set  on  bringing  the  teachings  of  the  Catholic  reli- 
gion to  co-operate  with  your  plans  of  administration  ?  For 
instance,  I  have  often  tried,  in  my  pulpit  discourses  on  theft, 
to  imbue  the  folk  of  this  parish  with  the  very  ideas  of  right 
to  which  you  have  just  given  utterance.  For  truly,  God  does 
not  estimate  theft  by  the  value  of  the  thing  stolen,  He  looks 
at  the  thief.  That  has  been  the  gist  of  the  parables  which  I 
have  tried  to  adapt  to  the  comprehension  of  my  parishion- 
ers. 

"You  have  succeeded,  sir,"  said  Cambon.  "I  know  the 
change  you  have  brought  about  in  people's  ways  of  looking  at 
things,  for  I  can  compare  the  commune  as  it  is  now  with  the 
commune  as  it  used  to  be.  There  are  certainly  very  few  places 
where  the  laborers  are  as  careful  as  ours  are  about  keeping  to 
time  in  their  working  hours.  The  cattle  are  well  looked  after; 
any  damage  that  they  do  is  done  by  accident.  There  is  no 
pilfering  in  the  woods,  and  finally  you  have  made  our  peasants 
clearly  understand  that  the  leisure  of  the  rich  is  the  reward 
of  a  thrifty  and  hard-working  life." 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF   THE    PEOPLE.  151 

"Well,  then,"  said  Genestas,  "you  ought  to  be  pretty  well 
pleased  with  your  infantry,  M.  le  Cure." 

"We  cannot  expect  to  find  angels  anywhere  here  below, 
captain,"  answered  the  priest.  "  Wherever  there  is  poverty, 
there  is  suffering  too;  and  suffering  and  poverty  are  strong 
compelling  forces  which  have  their  abuses,  just  as  power  has. 
When  the  peasants  have  a  couple  of  leagues  to  walk  to  their 
work,  and  have  to  tramp  back  wearily  in  the  evening,  they 
perhaps  see  sportsmen  taking  short  cuts  over  ploughed  land 
and  pasture  so  as  to  be  back  to  dinner  a  little  sooner,  and  is  it 
to  be  supposed  that  they  will  hesitate  to  follow  the  example  ? 
And  of  those  who  in  this  way  beat  out  a  footpath  such  as 
these  gentlemen  have  just  been  complaining  about,  which  are 
the  real  offenders,  the  workers  or  the  people  who  are  simply 
amusing  themselves?  Both  the  rich  and  the  poor  give  us  a 
great  deal  of  trouble  in  these  days.  Faith,  like  power,  ought 
always  to  descend  from  the  heights  above  us,  in  heaven  or  on 
earth ;  and  certainly  in  our  times  the  upper  classes  have  less 
faith  in  them  than  the  mass  of  the  people,  who  have  God's 
promise  of  heaven  hereafter  as  a  reward  for  evils  patiently 
endured.  With  due  submission  to  ecclesiastical  discipline, 
and  deference  to  the  views  of  my  superiors,  I  think  that  for 
some  time  to  come  we  should  be  less  exacting  as  to  questions 
of  doctrine,  and  rather  endeavor  to  revive  the  sentiment  of 
religion  in  the  hearts  of  the  intermediary  classes,  who  debate 
over  the  maxims  of  Christianity  instead  of  putting  them  in 
practice.  The  philosophism  of  the  rich  has  set  a  fatal  ex- 
ample to  the  poor,  and  has  brought  about  intervals  of  too 
long  duration  when  men  have  faltered  in  their  allegiance  to 
God.  Such  ascendency  as  we  have  over  our  flocks  to-day 
depends  entirely  on  our  personal  influence  with  them ;  is  it 
not  deplorable  that  the  existence  of  religious  belief  in  a  com- 
mune should  be  dependent  on  the  esteem  in  which  a  single 
man  is  held  ?  When  the  preservative  force  of  Christianity 
permeating  all  classes  of  society  shall  have  pi?t  life  into  the 


152  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

new  order  of  things,  there  will  be  an  end  of  sterile  disputes 
about  doctrine.  The  cult  of  a  religion  is  its  forai ;  societies 
only  exist  by  forms.  You  have  your  standard,  we  have  the 
cross ' ' 

"I  should  very  much  like  to  know,  sir,"  said  Genestas, 
breaking  in  upon  M.  Janvier,  "  why  you  forbid  these  poor 
folk  to  dance  on  Sunday?" 

"  We  do  not  quarrel  with  dancing  in  itself,  captain ;  it  is 
forbidden  because  it  leads  to  immorality,  which  troubles  the 
peace  of  the  countryside  and  corrupts  its  manners.  Does  not 
the  attempt  to  purify  the  spirit  of  the  family  and  to  maintain 
the  sanctity  of  family  ties  strike  at  the  root  of  the  evil?" 
contended  the  cure. 

"  Some  irregularities  are  always  to  be  found  in  every  district 
I  know,"  said  M.  Tonnelet,  "but  they  very  seldom  occur 
among  us.  Perhaps  there  are  peasants  who  remove  their 
neighbor's  landmark  without  much  scruple ;  or  they  may  cut 
a  few  osiers  that  belong  to  some  one  else,  if  they  happen  to 
want  some  ;  but  these  are  mere  peccadilloes  compared  with 
the  wrongdoing  that  goes  on  among  a  town  population. 
Moreover,  the  people  in  this  valley  seem  to  me  to  be  devoutly 
religious." 

**  Devout?"  queried  the  cure  with  a  smile  ;  *'  there  is  no 
fear  of  fanaticism  here." 

"But,"  objected  Cambon,  "if  the  people  all  went  to  mass 
every  morning,  sir,  and  to  confession  every  week,  how  would 
the  fields  be  cultivated  ?  And  three  priests  would  hardly  be 
enough." 

"Work  is  prayer,"  said  the  cure.  "Doing  one's  duty 
brings  a  knowledge  of  the  religious  principles  which  are  a 
vital  necessity  to  society." 

"  How  about  patriotism?"  asked  Genestas. 

"  Patriotism  can  only  inspire  a  short-lived  enthusiasm," 
the  curate  answered  gravely  ;  "religion  gives  it  permanence. 
Patriotism  consists  in  a  brief  impulse  of  forgetfulness  of  self 


THE  NAPOLEON  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  153 

and  self-interest,  while  Christianity  is  a  complete  system 
of  opposition  to  the  depraved  tendencies  of  mankind." 

"And  yet,  during  the  wars  undertaken  by  the  Revolution, 
patriotism " 

"Yes,  we  worked  wonders  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution," 
said  Benassis,  interrupting  Genestas  ;  "but  only  twenty  years 
later,  in  1814,  our  patriotism  was  extinct;  while,  in  former 
times,  a  religious  impulse  moved  France  and  Europe  to  fling 
themselves  upon  Asia  a  dozen  times  in  the  course  of  a 
century." 

"  Maybe  it  is  easier  for  two  nations  to  come  to  terms  when 
the  strife  has  arisen  out  of  some  question  of  material  inter- 
ests," said  the  justice  of  the  peace;  "  while  wars  undertaken 
with  the  idea  of  supporting  dogmas  are  bound  to  be  intermin- 
able, because  the  object  can  never  clearly  be  defined." 

"  Well,  sir,  you  are  not  helping  any  one  to  fish  !  "  put  in 
Jacquotte,  who  had  removed  the  soup  with  NicoUe's  assist- 
ance. Faithful  to  her  custom,  Jacquotte  herself  always 
brought  in  every  dish  one  after  another,  a  plan  which  had  its 
drawbacks,  for  it  compelled  gluttonous  folk  to  overeat  them- 
selves, and  the  more  abstemious,  having  satisfied  their  hunger 
at  an  early  stage,  were  obliged  to  leave  the  best  part  of  the 
dinner  untouched. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  cure,  with  a  glance  at  the  justice 
of  the  peace,  "  how  can  you  allege  that  religious  wars  have 
had  no  definite  aim?  Religion  in  olden  times  was  such  a 
powerful  binding  force  that  material  interests  and  religious 
questions  were  inseparable.  Every  soldier,  therefore,  knew 
quite  well  what  he  was  fighting  for." 

"  If  there  has  been  so  much  fighting  about  religion,"  said 
Genestas,  "  God  must  have  built  up  the  system  very  perfunc- 
torily. Should  not  a  divine  institution  impress  men  at  once 
by  the  truth  that  is  in  it  ?  " 

All  the  guests  looked  at  the  cure. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  M.  Janvier,    "religion    is  something 


154  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

that  is  felt  and  that  cannot  be  defined.  We  cannot  know  the 
purpose  of  the  Almighty ;  we  are  no  judges  of  the  means  He 
employs." 

"  Then,  according  to  you,  we  are  to  believe  in  all  your 
rigmaroles,"  said  Genestas,  with  the  easy  good-humor  of  a 
soldier  who  has  never  given  a  thought  to  these  things. 

"  The  Catholic  religion,  better  than  any  other,  resolves 
raen'.s  doubts  and  fears ;  but  even  were  it  otherwise,  I  might 
ask  you  if  you  run  any  risks  by  believing  in  its  truths?" 

"  None  worth  speaking  of,"  answered  Genestas. 

"Good  !  and  what  risks  do  you  not  run  by  not  believing? 
But  let  us  talk  of  the  worldly  aspect  of  the  matter,  which  most 
appeals  to  you.  The  finger  of  God  is  visible  in  human  affairs ; 
see  how  He  directs  them  by  the  hand  of  His  vicar  on  earth. 
How  much  men  have  lost  by  leaving  the  path  traced  out  for 
them  by  Christianity  !  So  few  think  of  reading  Church  his- 
tory, that  erroneous  notions  deliberately  sown  among  the 
people  lead  them  to  condemn  the  Church  ;  yet  the  Church 
has  been  a  pattern  of  perfect  government  such  as  men  seek  to 
establish  to-day.  The  principle  of  election  made  it  for  a  long 
while  a  great  political  power.  Except  the  Catholic  Church, 
there  was  no  single  religious  institution  which  was  founded 
upon  liberty  and  equality.  Everything  was  ordered  to  this 
end.  The  father-superior,  the  abbot,  the  bishop,  the  general 
of  an  order,  and  the  pope  were  then  chosen  conscientiously 
for  their  fitness  for  the  requirements  of  the  Church.  They 
were  the  expression  of  its  intelligence,  of  the  thinking  power 
of  the  Church,  and  blind  obedience  was  therefore  their  due.  I 
will  say  nothing  of  the  ways  in  which  society  has  benefited  by 
that  power  which  has  created  modern  nations  and  has  inspired 
so  many  poems,  so  much  music,  so  many  cathedrals,  statues, 
and  pictures.  I  will  simply  call  your  attention  to  the  fact 
^hat  your  modern  systems  of  popular  election,  of  two  cham- 
bers, and  of  juries  all  had  their  origin  in  provincial  and 
oecumenical  councils,  and  in  the  episcopate  and  college  of 


THE  NAPOLEON  OF   THE  PEOPLE.  155 

cardinals ;  but  there  is  this  difference — the  views  of  civiliza- 
tion held  l)y  our  present-day  philosophy  seem  to  me  to  fade 
away  before  the  sublime  and  divine  conception  of  Catholic 
communion,  the  type  of  a  universal  social  communion  brought 
about  by  the  word  and  the  fact  that  are  combined  in  religious 
dogma.  It  would  be  very  difficult  for  any  modern  political 
system,  however  perfect  people  may  think  it,  to  work  once 
more  such  miracles  as  were  wrought  in  those  ages  when  the 
Church  was  the  stay  and  support  of  the  human  intellect." 

"Why?"  asked  Genestas. 

**  Because,  in  the  first  place,  if  the  principle  of  election  is 
to  be  the  basis  of  a  system,  absolute  equality  among  the  elec- 
tors is  a  first  requirement ;  they  ought  to  be  '  equal  quantities,' 
to  make  use  of  a  mathematical  term,  and  that  is  a  state  of 
things  which  modern  politics  will  never  bring  about.  Then, 
great  social  changes  can  only  be  effected  by  means  of  some 
common  sentiment  so  powerful  that  it  brings  men  into  con- 
certed action,  while  latter-day  philosophism  has  discovered 
that  law  is  based  upon  personal  interest,  which  keeps  men 
apart.  Men  full  of  the  generous  spirit  that  watches  with 
tender  care  over  the  trampled  rights  of  the  suffering  poor 
were  more  often  found  among  the  nations  of  past  ages  than  in 
our  generation.  The  priesthood,  also,  which  sprang  from  the 
middle  classes,  resisted  material  forces  and  stood  between  the 
people  and  their  enemies.  But  the  territorial  possessions  of 
the  Church  and  her  temporal  power,  which  seemingly  made 
her  position  yet  stronger,  ended  by  crippling  and  weakening 
her  action.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  if  the  priest  has  possessions 
and  privileges,  he  at  once  appears  in  the  light  of  an  oppressor. 
He  is  paid  by  the  State,  therefore  he  is  an  official  ;  if  he  gives 
his  time,  his  life,  his  whole  heart,  this  is  a  matter  of  course, 
and  nothing  more  than  he  ought  to  do;  the  citizens  expect 
and  demand  his  devotion  ;  and  the  spontaneous  kindliness  of 
his  nature  is  dried  up.  But  let  the  priest  be  vowed  to  pov- 
erty, let  him  turn  to  his  calling  of  his  own  free  will,  let  him 


156  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

Stay  himself  on  God  alone,  and  have  no  resource  on  earth  but 
the  hearts  of  the  faithful,  and  he  becomes  once  more  the 
missionary  of  America,  he  takes  the  rank  of  an  apostle,  he  has 
all  things  under  his  feet.  Indeed,  the  burden  of  wealth  drags 
him  down,  and  it  is  only  by  renouncing  everything  that  he 
gains  dominion  over  all  men's  hearts." 

M.  Janvier  had  compelled  the  attention  of  every  one  present. 
No  one  spoke ;  for  all  the  guests  were  thoughtful.  It  was 
something  new  to  hear  such  words  as  these  in  the  mouth  of  a 
simple  cure. 

"  There  is  one  serious  error,  M.  Janvier,  among  the  truths 
to  which  you  have  given  expression,"  said  Benassis.  "  As  you 
know,  I  do  not  like  to  raise  discussions  on  points  of  general 
interest  which  modern  authorities  and  modern  writers  have 
called  in  question.  In  my  opinion,  a  man  who  has  thought 
out  a  political  system,  and  who  is  conscious  that  he  has  within 
him  the  power  of  applying  it  in  practical  politics,  should  keep 
his  mind  to  himself,  seize  his  opportunity  and  act;  but  if  he 
dwells  in  peaceful  obscurity  as  a  simple  citizen,  is  it  not  sheer 
lunacy  to  think  to  bring  the  great  mass  over  to  his  opinion  by 
means  of  individual  discussions?  For  all  that,  I  am  about  to 
argue  with  you,  my  dear  pastor,  for  I  am  speaking  before  sen- 
sible men,  each  of  whom  is  accustomed  always  to  bring  his 
individual  light  to  a  common  search  for  the  truth.  My  ideas 
may  seem  strange  to  you,  but  they  are  the  outcome  of  much 
thought  caused  by  the  calamities  of  the  last  forty  years. 
Universal  suffrage,  which  finds  such  favor  in  the  sight  of  those 
persons  who  belong  to  the  constitutional  opposition,  as  it  is 
called,  was  a  capital  institution  in  the  Church,  because  (as  you 
yourself  have  just  pointed  out,  dear  pastor)  the  individuals  of 
whom  the  Church  was  composed  were  all  well  educated,  disci- 
plined by  religious  feeling,  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  spirit 
of  the  same  system,  well  aware  of  what  they  wanted  and 
whither  they  were  going.  But  modern  Liberalism  rashly  made 
war  upon  the  prosperous  government  of   the  Bourbons,  by 


THE  NAPOLEON  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  167 

means  of  ideas  which,  should  they  triumph,  would  be  the  ruin 
of  France  and  of  the  Liberals  themselves.  This  is  well  known 
to  the  leaders  of  the  Left,  who  are  merely  endeavoring  to  get 
the  power  into  their  own  hands.  If  (which  heaven  forbid) 
the  middle  classes  ranged  under  the  banner  of  the  opposition 
should  succeed  in  overthrowing  those  social  superiorities  which 
are  so  repugnant  to  their  vanity,  another  struggle  would  follow 
hard  upon  their  victory.  It  would  not  be  very  long  before 
the  middle  classes  in  their  turn  would  be  looked  upon  by  tlie 
people  as  a  sort  of  noblesse ;  they  would  be  a  sorry  kind  of 
noblesse,  it  is  true,  but  their  wealth  and  privileges  would  seem 
so  much  the  more  hateful  in  the  eyes  of  the  people  because 
they  would  have  a  closer  vision  of  these  things.  I  do  not  say 
that  the  nation  would  come  to  grief  in  this  struggle,  but 
society  would  perish  anew  ;  for  the  day  of  triumph  of  a  suffer- 
ing people  is  always  brief,  and  involves  disorders  of  the  worst 
kind.  There  would  be  no  truce  in  a  desperate  strife  arising 
out  of  an  inherent  or  acquired  difference  of  opinion  among 
the  electors.  The  less  enlightened  and  more  numerous  portion 
would  sweep  away  social  inequalities,  thanks  to  a  system  in 
which  votes  are  reckoned  by  count  and  not  by  weight.  Hence 
it  follows  that  a  government  is  never  more  strongly  organized, 
and  as  a  consequence  is  never  more  perfect,  than  when  it  has 
been  established  for  the  protection  of  privilege  of  the  most 
restricted  kind.  By  privilege  I  do  not  at  this  moment  mean 
the  old  abuses  by  which  certain  rights  were  conceded  to  a  few, 
to  the  prejudice  of  the  many ;  no,  I  am  using  it  to  express  the 
social. circle  of  the  governing  class.  The  governing  class  is  in 
some  sort  the  heart  of  the  state.  But  throughout  creation 
nature  has  confined  the  vital  principle  within  a  narrow  space, 
in  order  to  concentrate  its  power ;  and  so  it  is  with  the  body 
politic.  I  will  illustrate  this  thought  of  mine  by  examples. 
Let  us  suppose  that  there  are  a  hundred  peers  in  France,  there 
are  only  one  hundred  causes  of  offence.  Abolish  the  peerage, 
and  all  wealthy  people  will  constitute  the  privileged  class ; 


158  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

instead  of  a  hundred,  you  will  have  ten  thousand ;  instead  of 
removing  class  distinctions,  you  have  merely  widened  the 
mischief.  In  fact,  from  the  people's  point  of  view,  the  right 
to  live  without  working  is  in  itself  a  privilege.  The  unpro- 
ductive consumer  is  a  robber  in  their  eyes.  The  only  work 
that  they  understand  has  palpable  results ;  they  set  no  value 
on  intellectual  labor — the  kind  of  labor  which  is  the  principal 
source  of  wealth  to  them.  So  by  multiplying  causes  of  offence 
in  this  way,  you  extend  the  field  of  battle  ;  the  social  war 
would  be  waged  on  all  points  instead  of  being  confined 
within  a  limited  circle ;  and  when  attack  and  resistance 
become  general,  the  ruin  of  a  country  is  imminent.  Because 
the  rich  will  always  be  fewer  in  number,  the  victory  will  be  to 
the  poor  as  soon  as  it  comes  to  actual  fighting.  I  will  throw 
the  burden  of  proof  on  history. 

"The  institution  of  senatorial  privilege  enabled  the  Roman 
Republic  to  conquer  the  world.  The  senate  preserved  the 
tradition  of  authority.  But  when  the  equites  and  the  novi 
homines  had  extended  the  governing  class  by  adding  to  the 
numbers  of  the  patricians,  the  state  came  to  ruin.  In  spite 
of  Sylla,  and  after  the  time  of  Julius  Caesar,  Tiberius  raised  it 
into  the  Roman  Empire  ;  the  system  was  embodied  in  one 
man,  and  all  authority  was  centred  in  him,  a  measure  which 
prolonged  the  magnificent  sway  of  the  Roman  for  several 
centuries.  The  Emperor  had  ceased  to  dwell  in  Rome  when 
the  Eternal  City  fell  into  the  hands  of  barbarians.  When  the 
conqueror  invaded  our  country,  the  Franks  who  divided  the 
land  among  themselves  invented  feudal  privilege  as  a  safe- 
guard for  property.  The  hundred  or  the  thousand  chiefs  who 
owned  the  country  established  their  institutions  with  a  view 
to  defending  the  rights  gained  by  conquest.  The  duration  of 
the  feudal  system  was  coexistent  with  the  restriction  of 
privilege.  But  when  the  lendes  (an  exact  translation  of  the 
word  gentlemen)  from  five  hundred  became  fifty  thousand, 
there   came   a   revolution.     The   governing   power   was   too 


THE   NAPOLECN  OF    THE   PEOPLE.  159 

widely  diffused;  it  lacked  force  and  concentration  ;  and  tiiey 
•  had  not  reckoned  with  the  two  powers,  money  and  thought, 
that  had  set  those  free  who  had  been  beneath  their  rule.  So 
the  victory  over  the  monarchical  system,  obtained  by  the 
middle  classes  with  a  view  to  extending  the  number  of  the 
privileged  class,  will  produce  its  natural  effect — the  people 
will  triumph  in  turn  over  the  middle  classes.  If  this  trouble 
comes  to  pass,  the  indiscriminate  right  of  suffrage  bestowed 
upon  the  masses  will  be  a  dangerous  weapon  in  their  hands. 
The  man  who  votes,  criticises.  An  authority  that  is  called  in 
question  is  no  longer  an  authority.  Can  you  imagine  a 
society  without  a  governing  authority?  No,  you  cannot. 
Therefore,  authority  means  force,  and  a  basis  of  just  judg- 
ment should  underlie  force.  Such  are  the  reasons  which  have 
led  me  to  think  that  the  principle  of  popular  election  is  a 
most  fatal  one  for  modern  governments.  I  think  that  my 
attachment  to  the  poor  and  suffering  classes  has  been  suffi- 
ciently proved,  and  that  no  one  will  accuse  me  of  bearing 
any  ill-will  towards  them  ;  but  though  I  admire  the  sublime 
patience  and  resignation  with  which  they  tread  the  path  of 
toil,  I  must  pronounce  them  to  be  unfit  to  take  part  in  the 
government.  The  proletariats  seem  to  me  to  be  the  minors  of 
a  nation,  and  ought  to  remain  in  a  condition  of  tutelage. 
Therefore,  gentlemen,  the  word  election,  to  my  thinking,  is  in 
a  fair  way  to  cause  as  much  mischief  as  the  words  conscience 
zud  liberty,  which,  illy  defined  and  illy  understood,  were  flung 
broadcast  among  the  people,  to  serve  as  watchwords  of  revolt 
and  incitements  to  destruction.  It  seems  to  me  to  be  a  right 
and  necessary  thing  that  the  masses  should  be  kept  in  tutelage 
for  the  good  of  society." 

"This  system  of  yours  runs  so  cleanly  contrary  to  every- 
body's notions  nowadays  that  we  have  some  right  to  ask  your 
reasons  for  it,"  said  Genestas,  interrupting  the  doctor. 

**  By  all  means,  captain." 

"What  is  this  the  master  is  saying?"  cried  Jacquotte,  as 


160  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

she  went  back  to  her  kitchen.  "There  he  is,  the  poor,  dear 
man,  and  what  is  he  doing  but  advising  them  to  crush  the 
people  !     And  they  are  listening  to  him " 

"I  would  never  have  believed  it  of  M.  Benassis,"  answered 
Nicolle. 

**  If  I  require  that  the  ignorant  masses  should  be  governed 
by  a  strong  hand,'.'  the  doctor  resumed,  after  a  brief  pause, 
"I  should  desire  at  the  same  time  that  the  framework  of  the 
social  system  should  be  sufficiently  yielding  and  elastic  to 
allow  those  who  have  the  will  and  are  conscious  of  their  ability 
to  emerge  from  the  crowd,  to  rise  and  take  their  place  among 
the  privileged  classes.  The  aim  of  power  of  every  kind  is  its 
own  preservation.  In  order  to  live,  a  government,  to-day  as 
in  the  past,  must  press  the  strong  men  of  the  nation  into  its 
service,  taking  them  from  every  quarter,  so  as  to  make  them 
its  defenders,  and  to  remove  from  among  the  people  the  men 
of  energy  who  incite  the  masses  to  insurrection.  By  opening 
out  in  this  way  to  the  public  ambition  paths  that  are  at  once 
difficult  and  easy,  easy  for  strong  wills,  difficult  for  weak  or 
imperfect  ones,  a  state  averts  the  perils  of  the  revolutions 
caused  by  the  struggles  of  men  of  superior  powers  to  rise  to 
their  proper  level.  Our  long  agony  of  forty  years  should  have 
made  it  clear  to  any  man  who  has  brains  that  social  superiori- 
ties are  a  natural  outcome  of  the  order  of  things.  They  are 
of  three  kinds  that  cannot  be  questioned — the  superiority  of 
the  thinker,  the  superiority  of  the  politician,  the  superiority 
of  wealth.  Is  not  that  as  much  as  to  say  genius,  power,  and 
money,  or,  in  yet  other  words — the  cause,  the  means,  and  the 
effect  ?  But  suppose  a  kind  of  social  white  tablet,  every  social 
unit  perfectly  equal,  an  increase  of  population  everywhere  in 
the  same  ratio,  and  give  the  same  amount  of  land  to  each 
family ;  it  would  not  be  long  before  you  would  again  have  all 
the  existing  inequalities  of  fortune ;  it  is  glaringly  evident, 
therefore,  that  there  are  such  things  as  superiority  of  fortune, 
of  thinking  capacity,  and  of  power,  and  we  must  make  up  our 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF  THE   PEOPLE.  161 

minds  to  this  fact ;  but  the  masses  will  always  regard  ri<^hts 
that  have  been  most  honestly  acquired  as  privileges,  and  as  a 
wrong  done  to  themselves. 

"The  social  contract  founded  upon  this  basis  will  be  a  per- 
petual pact  between  those  who  have  and  those  who  have  not. 
And  acting  on  these  principles,  those  who  benefit  by  the  laws 
will  be  the  lawmakers,  for  they  necessarily  have  the  instinct 
of  self-preservation,  and  foresee  their  dangers.  It  is  even 
more  to  their  interest  than  to  the  interest  of  the  masses  them- 
selves that  the  latter  should  be  quiet  and  contented.  The 
happiness  of  the  people  should  be  ready  made  for  the  people. 
If  you  look  at  society  as  a  whole  from  this  point  of  view,  you 
will  soon  see,  as  I  do,  that  the  privilege  of  election  ought  only 
to  be  exercised  by  men  who  possess  wealth,  power,  or  intelli- 
gence, and  you  will  likewise  see  that  the  action  of  the  deputies 
they  may  choose  to  represent  them  should  be  considerably 
restricted. 

*'  The  maker  of  laws,  gentlemen,  should  be  in  advance  of 
his  age.  It  is  his  business  to  ascertain  the  tendency  of 
erroneous  notions  popularly  held,  to  see  the  exact  direction  in 
which  the  ideas  of  a  nation  are  tending ;  he  labors  for  the 
future  rather  than  for  the  present,  and  for  the  rising  genera- 
tion rather  than  for  the  one  that  is  passing  away.  But  if  you 
call  in  the  masses  to  make  the  laws,  can  they  rise  above  their 
own  level  ?  Nay.  The  more  faithfully  an  assembly  repre- 
sents the  opinions  held  by  the  crowd,  the  less  it  will  know 
about  government,  the  less  lofty  its  ideas  will  be,  and  the 
more  vague  and  vacillating  its  policy,  for  the  crowd  is  and 
always  will  be  simply  a  crowd,  and  this  especially  with  us  in 
France.  Law  involves  submission  to  regulations ;  man  is 
naturally  opposed  to  rules  and  regulations  of  all  kinds, 
especially  if  they  interfere  with  his  interests ;  so  is  it  likely 
that  the  masses  will  enact  laws  that  are  contrary  to  their  own 
inclinations  ?     No. 

"Very  often  legislation  ought  to  run  counter  to  the  pre- 
11 


162  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

vailing  tendencies  of  the  time.  If  the  law  is  to  be  shaped  by 
the  prevailing  habits  of  thought  and  tendencies  of  a  nation, 
would  not  that  mean  that  in  Spain  a  direct  encouragement 
would  be  given  to  idleness  and  religious  intolerance  ;  in  Eng- 
land, to  the  commercial  spirit ;  in  Italy,  to  the  love  of  the 
arts  that  may  be  the  expression  of  society,  but  by  which  no 
society  can  entirely  exist ;  in  Germany,  feudal  class  distinc- 
tions would  be  fostered ;  and  here,  in  France,  popular  legisla- 
tion would  promote  the  spirit  of  frivolity,  the  sudden  craze  for 
an  idea,  and  the  readiness  to  split  into  factions,  which  has 
always  been  our  bane  ? 

"  What  has  happened  in  the  forty  years  since  the  electors 
took  it  upon  themselves  to  make  laws  for  France  ?  We  have 
something  like  forty  thousand  laws !  A  people  with  forty 
thousand  laws  might  as  well  have  none  at  all.  Is  it  likely 
that  five  hundred  mediocrities  (for  there  are  never  more  than 
a  hundred  great  minds  to  do  the  work  of  any  one  century), 
is  it  likely  that  five  hundred  mediocrities  will  have  the  wit  to 
rise  to  the  level  of  these  considerations  ?  Not  they !  Here 
is  a  constant  stream  of  men  poured  forth  from  five  hundred 
different  places ;  they  will  interpret  the  spirit  of  the  law  in 
divers  manners,  and  there  should  be  a  unity  of  conception  in 
the  law. 

"  But  I  will  go  yet  further.  Sooner  or  later  an  assembly 
of  this  kind  comes  to  be  swayed  by  one  man,  and  instead  of 
a  dynasty  of  kings,  you  have  a  constantly  changing  and  costly 
succession  of  prime  ministers.  There  comes  a  Mirabeau,  or  a 
Danton,  a  Robespierre,  or  a  Napoleon,  or  proconsuls,  or  an 
emperor,  and  there  is  an  end  of  deliberations  and  debates. 
In  fact,  it  takes  a  determinate  amount  of  force  to  raise  a  given 
weight;  the  force  may  be  distributed,  and  you  may  have  a 
less  or  greater  number  of  levers,  but  it  comes  to  the  same 
thing  in  the  end,  the  force  must  be  in  proportion  to  the 
weight.  The  weight  in  this  case  is  the  ignorant  and  suffering 
mass  of  people  who  form  the  lowest  stratum  of  society.     The 


THE  NAPOLEON  OE   THE   PEOPLE.  163 

attitude  of  authority  is  bound  to  be  repressive,  and  great  con- 
centration of  the  governing  power  is  needed  to  neutralize  the 
force  of  a  popular  movement.  This  is  the  application  of  a 
principle  that  I  unfolded  when  I  spoke  just  now  of  the  way 
in  which  the  class  privileged  to  govern  should  be  restricted. 
If  this  class  is  composed  of  men  of  ability,  they  will  obey 
this  natural  law,  and  compel  the  country  to  obey.  If  you 
collect  a  crowd  of  mediocrities  together,  sooner  or  later  they 
will  fall  under  the  dominion  of  a  stronger  head.  A  deputy 
of  talent  understands  the  reasons  for  which  a  government 
exists  ;  the  mediocre  deputy  simply  comes  to  terms  with  force. 
An  assembly  either  obeys  an  idea,  like  the  Convention  in  the 
time  of  the  Terror  ;  a  powerful  personality,  like  the  Corps 
Legislatif  under  the  rule  of  Napoleon  ;  or  falls  under  the 
domination  of  a  system  or  of  wealth,  as  it  has  done  in  our  own 
day.  The  Republican  Assembly,  that  dream  of  some  inno- 
cent souls,  is  an  impossibility.  Those  who  would  fain  bring 
it  to  pass  are  either  grossly  deluded  dupes  or  would-be  tyrants. 
Do  you  not  think  that  there  is  something  ludicrous  about  an 
assembly  which  gravely  sits  in  debate  upon  the  perils  of  a 
nation  which  ought  to  be  roused  into  immediate  action?  It 
is  only  right  of  course  that  the  people  should  elect  a  body  of 
representatives  who  will  decide  questions  of  supplies  and  of 
taxation ;  this  institution  has  always  existed,  under  the  sway 
of  the  most  tyrannous  ruler  no  less  than  under  the  sceptre  of 
the  mildest  of  princes.  Money  is  not  to  be  taken  by  force ; 
there  are  natural  limits  to  taxation,  and  if  they  are  over- 
stepped, a  nation  either  rises  up  in  revolt  or  lays  itself  down  to 
die.  Again,  if  this  elective  body,  changing  from  time  to  time, 
according  to  the  needs  and  ideas  of  those  whom  it  represents, 
should  refuse  obedience  to  a  bad  law  in  the  name  of  the  peo- 
ple, well  and  good.  But  to  imagine  that  five  hundred  men, 
drawn  from  every  corner  of  the  kingdom,  will  make  a  good 
law  !  Is  it  not  a  dreary  joke,  for  which  the  people  will  sooner  or 
later  have  to  pay  ?     They  have  a  change  of  masters,  that  is  all. 


164  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"Authority  ought  to  be  given  to  one  man,  he  alone  should 
have  the  task  of  making  the  laws ;  and  he  should  be  a  man 
who,  by  force  of  circumstances,  is  continually  obliged  to 
submit  his  actions  to  general  approbation.  But  the  only 
restraints  that  can  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the  exercise  of 
power,  be  it  the  power  of  the  one,  of  the  many,  or  of  the 
multitude,  are  to  be  found  in  the  religious  institutions  of 
a  country.  Religion  forms  the  only  adequate  safeguard 
against  the  abuse  of  supreme  power.  When  a  nation  ceases 
to  believe  in  religion,  it  becomes  ungovernable  in  consequence, 
and  its  prince  perforce  becomes  a  tyrant.  The  chambers  that 
occupy  an  intermediate  place  between  rulers  and  their  subjects 
are  powerless  to  prevent  these  results,  and  can  only  mitigate 
them  to  a  very  slight  extent ;  assemblies,  as  I  have  said  before, 
are  bound  to  become  the  accomplices  of  tyranny  on  the  one 
hand,  or  of  insurrection  on  the  other.  My  own  leanings  are 
towards  a  government  by  one  man ;  but  though  it  is  good,  it 
cannot  be  absolutely  good,  for  the  results  of  every  policy  will 
always  depend  upon  the  condition  and  the  beliefs  of  the 
nation.  If  a  nation  is  in  its  dotage,  if  it  has  been  corrupted 
to  the  core  by  philosophism  and  the  spirit  of  discussion,  it  is 
on  the  high  road  to  despotism,  from  which  no  form  of  free 
government  will  save  it.  And,  at  the  same  time,  a  righteous 
people  will  nearly  always  find  liberty  even  under  a  despotic 
rule.  All  this  goes  to  show  the  necessity  for  restricting  the 
right  of  election  within  very  narrow  limits,  the  necessity  for 
a  strong  government,  the  necessity  for  a  powerful  religion 
which  makes  the  rich  man  the  friend  of  the  poor,  and  enjoins 
upon  the  poor  an  absolute  submission  to  their  lot.  It  is,  in 
fact,  really  imperative  that  the  assemblies  should  be  deprived 
of  all  direct  legislative  power,  and  should  confine  themselves 
to  the  registration  of  laws  and  to  questions  of  taxation. 

"  I  know  that  different  ideas  from  these  exist  in  many 
minds.  To-day,  as  in  past  ages,  there  are  enthusiasts  who 
seek  for  perfection,  and  who  would  like  to  have  society  better 


THE  NAPOLEON  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  165 

ordered  than  it  is  at  present.  But  innovations  which  tend  to 
bring  about  a  kind  of  social  topsy-turvydom,  ought  only  to 
be  undertaken  by  general  consent.  Let  the  innovators  have 
patience.  When  I  remember  how  long  it  has  taken  Chris- 
tianity to  establish  itself;  how  many  centuries  it  has  taken  to 
bring  about  a  purely  moral  revolution  which  surely  ought 
to  have  been  accomplished  peacefully,  the  thought  of  the 
horrors  of  a  revolution,  in  which  material  interests  are  con- 
cerned, makes  me  shudder,  and  I  am  for  maintaining  existing 
institutions.  '  Each  shall  have  his  own  thought '  is  the  dic- 
tum of  Christianity ;  *  Each  man  shall  have  his  own  field  ' 
says  modern  law ;  and  in  this,  modern  law  is  in  harmony  with 
Christianity.  Each  shall  have  his  own  thought ;  that  is  a 
consecration  of  the  rights  of  intelligence;  and  each  shall 
have  his  own  field  is  a  consecration  of  the  right  to  property 
that  has  been  acquired  by  toil.  Hence  our  society.  Nature 
has  based  human  life  upon  the  instinct  of  self-preservation, 
and  social  life  is  founded  upon  personal  interest.  Such  ideas 
as  these  are,  to  my  thinking,  the  very  rudiments  of  politics. 
Religion  keeps  these  two  selfish  sentiments  in  subordination 
by  the  thought  of  a  future  life;  and  in  this  way  the  harshness 
of  the  conflict  of  interests  has  been  somewhat  softened.  God 
has  mitigated  the  sufferings  that  arise  from  social  friction  by  a 
religious  sentiment  which  raises  self- forget  fulness  into  a  virtue  ; 
just  as  He  has  moderated  the  friction  of  the  mechanism  of  the 
universe  by  laws  which  we  do  not  know.  Christianity  bids 
the  poor  bear  patiently  with  the  rich,  and  commands  the  rich 
to  lighten  the  burdens  of  the  poor  ;  these  few  words,  to  my 
mind,  contain  the  essence  of  all  laws,  human  and  divine  !  " 

"  I  am  no  statesman,"  said  the  notary  ;  "  I  see  in  a  ruler  a 
liquidator  of  society  which  should  always  remain  in  liquida- 
tion ;  he  should  hand  over  to  his  successor  the  exact  value  of 
the  assets  which  he  received." 

"I  am  no  statesman  either,"  said  Benassis,  hastily  inter- 
rupting the  notary.     "It  takes  nothing  but  a  little  common 


166  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

sense  to  better  the  lot  of  a  commune,  of  a  canton,  or  of  an 
even  wider  district ;  a  department  calls  for  some  administra- 
tive talent,  but  all  these  four  spheres  of  action  are  compara- 
tively limited,  the  outlook  is  not  too  wide  for  ordinary  powers 
of  vision,  and  there  is  a  visible  connection  between  their 
interests  and  the  general  progress  made  by  the  state. 

"  But  in  yet  higher  regions,  everything  is  on  a  larger  scale, 
the  horizon  widens,  and  from  the  standpoint  where  he  is 
placed,  the  statesman  ought  to  grasp  the  whole  situation.  It 
is  only  necessary  to  consider  liabilities  due  ten  years  hence, 
in  order  to  bring  about  a  great  deal  of  good  in  the  case  of  the 
department,  the  district,  the  canton,  or  the  commune;  but 
when  it  is  a  question  of  the  destinies  of  a  nation,  a  statesman 
must  foresee  a  more  distant  future  and  the  course  that  events 
are  likely  to  take  for  the  next  hundred  years.  The  genius  of 
a  Colbert  or  of  a  Sully  avails  nothing,  unless  it  is  supported 
by  the  energetic  will  that  makes  a  Napoleon  or  a  Cromwell. 
A  great  minister,  gentlemen,  is  a  great  thought  written  at 
large  over  all  the  years  of  a  century  of  prosperity  and 
splendor  for  which  he  has  prepared  the  way.  Steadfast  per- 
severance is  the  virtue  of  which  he  stands  most  in  need  ;  and 
in  all  human  affairs  does  not  steadfast  perseverance  indicate  a 
power  of  the  very  highest  order?  We  have  had  for  some 
time  past  too  many  men  who  think  only  of  the  ministry 
instead  of  the  nation,  so  that  we  cannot  but  admire  the  real 
statesman  as  the  sublimest  of  human  poetry.  Ever  to  look 
beyond  the  present  moment,  to  foresee  the  ways  of  destiny,  to 
care  so  little  for  power  that  he  only  retains  it  because  he  is 
conscious  of  his  usefulness,  while  he  does  not  overestimate 
his  strength  ;  ever  to  lay  aside  all  personal  feeling  and  low 
ambitions,  so  that  he  may  always  be  master  of  his  faculties, 
and  foresee,  will,  and  act  without  ceasing;  to  compel  himself 
to  be  just  and  impartial,  to  keep  order  on  a  large  scale,  to 
silence  his  heart  that  he  may  be  guided  by  his  intellect  alone, 
to  be  neither  apprehensive   nor  sanguine,  neither  suspicious 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF   THE   PEOPLE.  167 

nor  confiding,  neither  grateful  nor  ungrateful,  never  to  be 
unprepared  for  an  event,  nor  taken  unawares  by  an  idea ;  to 
live,  in  fact,  with  the  requirements  of  the  masses  ever  in  his 
mind;  to  spread  the  protecting  wings  of  his  thought  above" 
them,  to  sway  them  by  the  thunder  of  his  voice  and  the  keen- 
ness of  his  glance  ;  seeing  all  the  while  not  the  details  of 
affairs,  but  the  great  issues  at  stake,  is  not  that  to  be  some- 
thing more  than  a  mere  man  ?  Therefore  the  names  of  the 
great  and  noble  fathers  of  nations  cannot  but  be  household 
words  for  ever." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  during  which  the  guests 
looked  at  one  another. 

"  Gentlemen,  you  have  not  said  a  word  about  the  army," 
cried  Genestas.  "  A  military  organization  seems  to  me  to  be 
the  real  type  on  which  all  good  civil  society  should  be 
modeled ;  the  sword  is  the  guardian  of  a  nation." 

The  justice  of  the  peace  laughed  softly. 

"  Captain,"  he  said,  *'  an  old  lawyer  once  said  that  empires 
began  with  the  sword  and  ended  with  the  desk;  we  have 
reached  the  desk  stage  by  this  time." 

"  And  now  that  we  have  settled  the  fate  of  the  world, 
gentlemen,  let  us  change  the  subject.  Come,  captain,  a  glass 
of  Hermitage,"  cried  the  doctor,  laughing. 

"Two,  rather  than  one,"  said  Genestas,  holding  out  his 
glass.  "  I  mean  to  drink  them  both  to  your  health — to  a  man 
who  does  honor  to  the  species." 

"And  who  is  dear  to  all  of  us,"  said  the  cure  in  gentle 
tones. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  force  me  into  the  sin  of  pride,  M. 
Janvier?  " 

"  M.  le  cure  has  only  said  in  a  low  voice  what  all  the  can- 
ton says  aloud,"  said  Cambon. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  propose  that  we  take  a  walk  to  the  parson- 
age by  moonlight,  and  see  M.  Janvier  home,"  said  the  justice 
of  the  peace,  rising  from  the  table. 


168  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"Let  US  Start,"  said  the  guests,  and  they  prepared  to  ac- 
company the  cure. 

"  Shall  we  go  to  the  barn  ?  "  said  the  doctor,  laying  a  hand 
•on  Genestas'  arm.  They  had  taken  leave  of  the  cure  and  the 
other  guests.  "  You  will  hear  them  talking  about  Napoleon, 
Captain  Bluteau.  Goguelat,  the  postman,  is  there,  and  there 
are  several  of  his  cronies  who  are  sure  to  draw  him  out  on  the 
subject  of  the  idol  of  the  people,  Nicolle,  my  stableman,  has 
set  a  ladder  so  that  we  can  climb  up  on  the  hay ;  there  is  a 
place  from  which  we  can  look  down  on  the  whole  scene. 
Come  along,  an  up-sitting  is  something  worth  seeing,  believe 
me.  It  will  not  be  the  first  time  that  I  have  hidden  in  the 
hay  to  overhear  a  soldier's  tales  or  the  stories  that  peasants 
tell  among  themselves.  We  must  be  careful  to  keep  out  of 
sight  though,  as  these  good  folk  turn  shy  and  put  on  company 
manners  as  soon  as  they  see  a  stranger,"  suggested  Benassis, 
as  they  proceeded  towards  the  barn. 

"  Eh  !  my  dear  sir,"  said  Genestas,  "  have  I  not  often  pre- 
tended to  be  asleep  so  as  to  hear  my  troopers  talking  out  on 
bivouac?  My  word,  I  once  heard  a  droll  yarn  reeled  off  by 
an  old  quartermaster  for  some  conscripts  who  were  afraid  of 
war ;  I  never  laughed  so  heartily  in  any  theatre  in  Paris.  He 
was  telling  them  about  the  retreat  from  Moscow ;  he  told  them 
that  the  army  had  nothing  but  the  clothes  they  stood  up  in, 
that  their  wine  was  iced,  that  the  dead  stood  stock-still  in  the 
road  just  where  they  were,  that  they  had  seen  White  Russia,  and 
that  they  currycombed  the  horses  there  with  their  teeth,  that 
those  who  were  fond  of  skating  had  fine  times  of  it,  and  people 
who  had  a  fancy  for  savory  ices  had  as  much  as  they  could  put 
away,  that  the  women  were  generally  poor  company,  but  that 
the  only  thing  they  could  really  complain  of  was  the  want  of 
hot  water  for  shaving.  In  fact,  he  told  them  such  a  pack  of 
absurdities  that  even  an  old  quartermaster  who  had  lost  his 
nose  with  a  frostbite,  so  that  they  had  dubbed  him  Nosey, 
was  fain  to  laugh." 


THE   NAPOLEON   OF   THE   PEOPLE.  169 

"Hush!"  said  Benassis,  "here  we  are.  I  will  go  first; 
follow  after  me." 

Both  of  them  scaled  the  ladder  and  hid  themselves  in  the 
hay,  in  a  place  whence  they  could  have  a  good  view  of  the 
party  below,  who  had  not  heard  a  sound  overhead.  Little 
groups  of  women  were  clustered  about  three  or  four  candles. 
Some  of  them  sewed,  others  were  spinning,  while  a  few  of 
them  were  doing  nothing,  and  sat  with  their  heads  stretched 
forward,  and  their  eyes  fixed  on  an  old  peasant  who  was  tell- 
ing a  story.  The  men  were  standing  about  for  the  most  part, 
or  lying  at  full  length  on  the  trusses  of  hay.  Every  group 
was  absolutely  silent.  Their  faces  were  barely  visible  by  the 
flickering  gleams  of  the  candles  by  which  the  women  were 
working,  although  each  candle  was  surrounded  by  a  glass 
globe  filled  with  water,  in  order  to  concentrate  the  light. 
The  thick  darkness  and  shadow  that  filled  the  roof  and  all  the 
upper  part  of  the  barn  seemed  still  further  to  diminish  the 
light  that  fell  here  and  there  upon  the  workers'  heads  with 
such  picturesque  effects  of  light  and  shade.  Here,  it  shone 
full  upon  the  bright  wondering  eyes  and  brown  forehead  of  a 
little  peasant  maiden  ;  and  there  the  straggling  beams  brought 
out  the  outlines  of  the  rugged  brows  of  some  of  the  older  men, 
throwing  up  their  figures  in  sharp  relief  against  the  dark  back- 
ground, and  giving  a  fantastic  appearance  to  their  worn  and 
weather-stained  garb.  The  attentive  attitude  of  all  these 
people  and  the  expression  on  all  their  faces  showed  that  they 
had  given  themselves  up  entirely  to  the  pleasure  of  listening, 
and  that  the  narrator's  sway  was  absolute.  It  was  a  curious 
scene.  The  immense  influence  that  poetry  exerts  over  every 
mind  was  plainly  to  be  seen.  For  is  not  the  peasant  who 
demands  that  the  tale  of  wonder  should  be  simple,  and  that 
the  impossible  should  be  wellnigh  credible,  a  lover  of  poetry 
of  the  purest  kind  ? 

"  She  did  not  like  the  looks  of  the  house  at  all,"  the  peasant 
was  saying  as  the  two  newcomers  took  their  places  where  they 


170  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

could  overhear  him;  "but  the  poor  little  hunchback  was  so 
tired  out  with  carrying  her  bundle  of  hemp  to  market  that 
she  went  in  ;  besides,  the  night  had  come,  and  she  could  go 
no  further.  She  only  asked  to  be  allowed  to  sleep  there,  and 
ate  nothing  but  a  crust  of  bread  that  she  took  from  her  wallet. 
And  inasmuch  as  the  woman  who  kept  house  for  the  brigands 
knew  nothing  about  what  they  had  planned  to  do  that  night, 
she  let  the  old  woman  into  the  house,  and  sent  her  upstairs 
without  a  light.  Our  hunchback  throws  herself  down  on  a 
rickety  truckle  bed,  says  her  prayers,  thinks  about  her  hemp, 
and  is  dropping  off  to  sleep.  But  before  she  is  fairly  asleep, 
she  hears  a  noise,  and  in  walk  two  men  carrying  a  lantern, 
and  each  man  had  a  knife  in  his  hand.  Then  fear  came  upon 
her ;  for  in  those  times,  look  you,  they  used  to  make  pates  of 
human  flesh  for  the  seigneurs,  who  were  very  fond  of  them. 
But  the  old  woman  plucked  up  heart  again,  for  she  was  so 
thoroughly  shriveled  and  wrinkled  that  she  thought  they 
would  think  her  a  poorish  sort  of  diet.  The  two  men  went 
past  the  hunchback  and  walked  up  to  a  bed  that  there  was  in 
the  great  room,  and  in  which  they  had  put  the  gentleman 
with  the  big  portmanteau,  the  one  that  passed  for  a  '  negro- 
mancer.'  The  taller  man  holds  up  the  lantern  and  takes  the 
gentleman  by  the  feet,  and  the  short  one,  that  had  pretended  to 
be  drunk,  clutches  hold  of  his  head  and  cuts  his  throat,  clean, 
with  one  stroke,  swish  !  Then  they  leave  the  head  and  body 
lying  in  its  own  blood  up  there,  steal  the  portmanteau,  and 
go  downstairs  with  it.  Here  is  our  woman  in  a  nice  fix  ! 
First  of  all  she  thinks  of  slipping  out  before  any  one  can 
suspect  it,  not  knowing  that  Providence  had  brought  her  there 
to  glorify  God  and  to  bring  down  punishment  on  the  mur- 
derers. She  was  in  a  great  fright,  and  when  one  is  frightened 
one  thinks  of  nothing  else.  But  the  woman  of  the  house  had 
asked  the  two  brigands  about  the  hunchback,  and  that  had 
alarmed  them.  So  back  they  come,  creeping  softly  up  the 
wooden  staircase.     The  poor  hunchback  curls  up  in  a  ball 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF    THE   PEOPLE.  171 

with  fright,  and  she  hears  them  talking  about  her  in  low 
whispers. 

'"Kill  her,  I  tell  you.' 

"  '  No  need  to  kill  her.' 

"  '  Kill  her  !  ' 

*"  No ! ' 

**  Then  they  come  in.  The  woman,  who  was  no  fool,  shuts 
her  eyes  and  pretends  to  be  asleep.  She  sets  to  work  to  sleep 
like  a  child,  with  her  hand  on  her  heart,  and  takes  to  breath- 
ing like  a  cherub.  The  man  opens  the  lantern  and  shines  the 
light  straight  into  the  eyes  of  the  sleeping  old  woman — she 
does  not  move  an  eyelash,  she  is  in  such  terror  for  her  neck. 

"  'She  is  sleeping  like  a  log;  you  can  see  that  quite  well,' 
so  says  the  tall  one. 

"  '  Old  women  are  so  cunning  ! '  answers  the  short  man.  'I 
will  kill  her.  We  shall  feel  easier  in  our  minds.  Besides,  we 
will  salt  her  down  to  feed  the  pigs.' 

"  The  old  woman  hears  all  this  talk,  but  she  does  not  stir, 

"  *0h  !  it  is  all  right,  she  is  asleep,'  says  the  short  ruffian, 
when  he  saw  that  the  hunchback  had  not  stirred. 

"That  is  how  the  old  woman  saved  her  life.  And  she  may 
be  fairly  called  courageous  ;  for  it  is  a  fact  that  there  are  not 
many  girls  here  who  could  have  breathed  like  cherubs  while 
they  heard  that  going  on  about  the  pigs.  Well,  the  two  brig- 
ands set  to  work  to  lift  up  the  dead  man  ;  they  wrap  him 
round  in  the  sheets  and  chuck  him  out  into  the  little  yard  ; 
and  the  old  woman  hears  the  pigs  scampering  up  to  eat  him, 
and  grunting,  Hon  !  hon  ! 

**So  when  morning  comes,"  the  narrator  resumed  after  a 
pause,  "  the  woman  gets  up  and  goes  down,  paying  a  couple 
of  sous  for  her  bed.  She  takes  up  her  wallet,  goes  on  just  as 
if  nothing  had  happened,  asks  for  the  news  of  the  countryside, 
and  gets  away  in  peace.  She  wants  to  run.  Running  is  quite 
out  of  the  question,  her  legs  fail  her  for  fright ;  and  lucky  it 
was  for  her  that  she  could  not  run,  for  this  reason :    She  had 


172  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

barely  gone  half  a  quarter  of  a  league  before  she  sees  one  of 
the  brigands  coming  after  her,  just  out  of  craftiness  to  make 
quite  sure  that  she  had  seen  nothing.  She  guesses  this,  and 
sits  herself  down  on  a  boulder. 

"  *  What  is  the  matter,  good  woman  ?  '  asks  the  short  one, 
for  it  was  the  shorter  one  and  the  wickeder  of  the  two  who 
was  dogging  her. 

"  *  Oh !  master,'  says  she,  *  my  wallet  is  so  heavy,  and  I 
am  so  tired,  that  I  badly  want  some  good  man  to  give  me  his 
arm  '  (sly  thing',  only  listen  to  her  !)  '  if  I  am  to  get  back  to 
my  poor  home.' 

"  Thereupon  the  brigand  offers  to  go  along  with  her,  and 
she  accepts  his  offer.  The  fellow  takes  hold  of  her  arm  to  see 
if  she  is  afraid.  Not  she  !  She  does  not  tremble  a  bit,  and 
walks  quietly  along.  So  there  they  are,  chatting  away  as  nicely 
as  possible,  all  about  farming,  and  the  way  to  grow  hemp,  till 
they  come  to  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  where  the  hunchback 
lived,  and  the  brigand  made  off  for  fear  of  meeting  some  of 
the  sheriff's  people.  The  woman  reached  her  house  at  mid- 
day, and  waited  there  till  her  husband  came  home ;  she 
thought  and  thought  over  all  that  had  happened  on  her  journey 
and  during  the  night.  The  hemp-grower  came  home  in  the 
evening.  He  was  hungry ;  something  must  be  got  ready  for 
him  to  eat.  So  while  she  greases  her  frying-pan,  and  gets 
ready  to  fry  something  for  him,  she  tells  him  how  she  sold  her 
hemp,  and  gabbles  away  as  females  do,  but  not  a  word  does 
she  say  about  the  pigs,  nor  about  the  gentleman  who  was  mur- 
dered and  robbed  and  eaten.  She  holds  her  frying-pan  in  the 
flames  so  as  to  clean  it,  draws  it  out  again  to  give  it  a  wipe, 
and  finds  it  full  of  blood. 

"  '  What  have  you  been  putting  into  it  ? '  says  she  to  her  man. 

"  '  Nothing,'  says  he. 

"  She  thinks  it  must  have  been  a  nonsensical  piece  of  woman's 

fancy,  and  puts  her  frying-pan  into  the  fire  again. Bang! 

A  head  comes  tumbling  down  the  chimney ! 


THE  NAPOLEON  OF  THE   PEOPLE.  173 

*"0h  !  look  !  It  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  dead 
man's  head,'  says  the  old  woman.  'How  he  stares  at  me! 
What  does  he  want !  ' 

**  *  You  must  avenge  me  I '  says  a  voice. 

*• '  What  an  idiot  you  are  !  '  said  the  hemp-grower.  '  Always 
seeing  something  or  other  that  has  no  sort  of  sense  about  it ! 
Just  you  all  over.' 

"  He  takes  up  the  head,  which  snaps  at  his  finger,  and  pitches 
it  out  into  the  yard. 

"  '  Get  on  with  my  omelette,'  he  says,  '  and  do  not  bother 
yourself  about  that.      'Tis  a  cat.' 

**  *  A  cat !  '  says  she  ;   '  it  was  as  round  as  a  ball.' 

**  She   puts   back   her   frying-pan    on    the    fire. Bang ! 

Down  comes  a  leg  this  time,  and  they  go  through  the  whole 
story  again.  The  man  was  no  more  astonished  at  the  leg 
than  he  had  been  at  the  head  ;  he  snatched  up  the  leg  and 
also  threw  it  out  the  door.  Before  they  had  finished,  the  other 
.leg,  both  arms,  the  body,  the  whole  murdered  traveler,  in 
fact,  came  down  piecemeal.  No  omelette  all  this  time  !  The 
old  hemp-seller  grew  very  hungry  indeed. 

**  *By  my  salvation  !  '  said  he,  '  when  once  my  omelette  is 
made  we  will  see  about  satisfying  that  man  yonder.' 

*' '  So  you  admit,  now,  that  it  was  a  man  ?  '  said  the  hunch- 
back wife.  *  What  made  you  say  that  it  was  not  a  head  a 
minute  ago,  you  great  worry  ?  ' 

"  The  woman  breaks  the  eggs,  fries  the  omelette,  and  dishes 
it  up  without  any  more  grumbling ;  somehow  this  squabble 
began  to  make  her  feel  very  uncomfortable.  Her  husband 
sits  down  and  begins  to  eat.  The  hunchback  was  frightened, 
and  said  that  she  was  not  hungry. 

•' '  Tap  !  tap  ! '     There  was  a  stranger  rapping  at  the  door. 

"<Who  is  there?' 

"  *  The  man  that  died  yesterday  ! ' 

"  *  Come  in,'  answers  the  hemp-grower. 

"So  the  traveler  comes  in,  sits  himself  down  on  a  three- 


174  THE   COUATRY  DOCTOR. 

legged  stool,  and  says :  '  Are  you  mindful  of  God,  who  gives 
eternal  peace  to  those  who  confess  His  name?  Woman! 
You  saw  me  done  to  death,  and  you  have  said  nothing  !  I 
have  been  eaten  by  the  pigs  !  The  pigs  do  not  enter  Paradise, 
and  therefore  I,  a  Christian  man,  shall  go  down  into  hell,  all 
because  a  woman  forsooth  will  not  speak,  a  thing  that  has 
never  been  known  before.  You  must  deliver  me,'  and  so  on, 
and  so  on. 

"  The  woman,  who  was  more  and  more  frightened  every 
minute,  cleaned  her  frying-pan,  put  on  her  Sunday  clothes, 
went  to  the  justice,  and  told  him  about  the  crime,  which  was 
brought  to  light,  and  the  robbers  were  broken  on  the  wheel 
in  proper  style  in  the  market-place.  This  good  work  accom- 
plished, the  woman  and  her  husband  always  had  the  finest 
hemp  you  ever  set  eyes  on.  Then,  which  pleased  them  still 
better,  they  had  something  that  they  had  wished  for  for  a 
long  time,  to  wit,  a  man-child,  who  in  course  of  time  became 
a  great  lord  of  the  king. 

"That  is  the  true  story  of  'The  Courageous  Hunchback 
Woman.'" 

"  I  do  not  like  stories  of  that  sort ;  they  make  me  dream 
at  night,"  said  La  Fosseuse.  "Napoleon's  adventures  are 
much  nicer,  I  think." 

"  Quite  true,"  said  the  keeper.  "  Come  now,  M.  Goguelat, 
tell  us  about  the  Emperor." 

"  The  evening  is  too  far  gone,"  said  the  postman,  "and  I 
do  not  care  about  cutting  short  the  story  of  a  victory." 

"  Never  mind,  let  us  hear  about  it  all  the  same  !  We  know 
the  stories,  for  we  have  heard  you  tell  them  many  a  time ;  but 
it  is  always  a  pleasure  to  hear  them." 

"  Tell  us  about  the  Emperor !  "  cried  several  voices  at  once. 

"You  will  have  it?"  answered  Goguelat.  "Very  good, 
but  you  will  see  that  there  is  no  sense  in  the  story  when  it  is 
gone  through  at  a  gallop.  I  would  rather  tell  you  all  about  a 
single  battle.     Shall  it  be  ChampAubert,  where  we  ran  out 


THE  NAPOLEON  OF   THE   PEOPLE.  175 

of  cartridges,  and  furbished  them  just  the  same  with  the 
bayonet  ? ' * 

"  No,  the  Emperor  !  the  Emperor  !  " 

The  old  infantry  man  got  up  from  his  truss  of  hay  and 
glanced  round  about  on  those  assembled,  with  the  peculiar 
sombre  expression  in  which  may  be  read  all  the  miseries, 
adventures,  and  hardships  of  an  old  soldier's  career.  He 
took  his  coat  by  the  two  skirts  in  front,  and  raised  them,  as 
if  it  were  a  question  of  once  more  packing  up  the  knapsack 
in  which  his  kit,  his  shoes,  and  all  he  had  in  the  world  used 
to  be  stowed ;  for  a  moment  he  stood  leaning  all  his  weight 
on  his  left  foot,  then  he  swung  the  right  foot  forward,  and 
yielded  with  a  good  grace  to  the  wishes  of  his  audience.  He 
swept  his  gray  hair  to  one  side,  so  as  to  leave  his  forehead 
bare,  and  flung  back  his  head  and  gazed  upwards,  as  if  to 
raise  himself  to  the  lofty  height  of  the  gigantic  story  that  he 
was  about  to  tell. 

"Napoleon,  you  see,  my  friends,  was  born  in  Corsica, 
which  is  a  French  island  warmed  by  the  Italian  sun  ;  it  is  like 
a  furnace  there,  everything  is  scorched  up,  and  they  keep  on 
killing  each  other  from  father  to  son  for  generations  all  about 
nothing  at  all — 'tis  a  notion  they  have.  To  begin  at  the 
beginning,  there  was  something  extraordinary  about  the  thing 
from  the  first ;  it  occurred  to  his  mother,  who  was  the  hand- 
somest woman  of  her  time,  and  a  shrewd  soul,  to  dedicate 
him  to  God,  so  that  he  should  escape  all  the  dangers  of  infancy 
and  of  his  after-life  ;  for  she  had  dreamed  that  the  world  was  on 
fire  on  the  day  he  was  born.  It  was  a  prophecy  !  So  she  asked 
God  to  protect  him,  on  condition  that  Napoleon  should  re- 
establish His  holy  religion,  which  had  been  thrown  to  the 
ground  just  then.  That  was  the  agreement ;  we  shall  see  what 
came  of  it. 

"  Now,  do  you  follow  me  carefully,  and  tell  me  whether 
what  you  are  about  to  hear  is  natural. 

"  It  is  certain  sure  that  only  a  man  who  had  had  imagina- 


176  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

tion  enough  to  make  a  mysterious  compact  would  be  capable 
of  going  further  than  anybody  else,  and  of  passing  through 
volleys  of  grapeshot  and  showers  of  bullets  which  carried  us 
off  like  flies,  but  which  had  a  respect  for  his  head.  I  myself  had 
particular  proof  of  that  at  Eylau.  I  see  him  yet ;  he  climbs  a 
hillock,  takes  his  field-glass,  looks  along  our  lines,  and  says, 
'That  is  going  on  all  right.'  One  of  your  deep  fellows,  with 
a  bunch  of  feathers  in  his  cap,  used  to  plague  him  a  good 
deal  from  all  accounts,  following  him  about  everywhere,  even 
when  he  was  getting  his  meals.  This  fellow  wants  to  do  some- 
thing clever,  so  as  soon  as  the  Emperor  goes  away  he  takes 
his  place.  Oh  !  swept  away  in  a  moment !  And  that  is  the 
last  of  the  bunch  of  feathers  !  You  understand  quite  clearly 
that  Napoleon  had  undertaken  to  keep  his  secret  to  himself. 
That  is  why  those  who  accompanied  him,  and  even  his  especial 
friends,  used  to  drop  like  nuts:  Duroc,  Bessieres,  Lannes — 
men  as  strong  as  bars  of  steel,  which  he  cast  into  shape  for 
his  own  ends.  And  here  is  a  final  proof  that  he  was  the  child 
of  God,  created  to  be  the  soldier's  father ;  for  no  one  ever 
saw  him  as  a  lieutenant  or  a  captain.  He  is  a  commandant 
straight  off!  Ah  !  yes,  indeed  !  He  did  not  look  more  than 
four-and-twenty,  but  he  was  an  old  general  ever  since  the 
taking  of  Toulon,  when  he  made  a  beginning  by  showing  the 
rest  that  they  knew  nothing  about  handling  cannon.  The 
next  thing  he  does  he  tumbles  upon  us.  A  little  slip  of  a 
general-in-chief  of  the  army  of  Italy,  which  had  neither  bread 
nor  ammunition  nor  shoes  nor  clothes — a  wretched  army  as 
naked  as  a  worm. 

"  'Friends,'  he  said,  'here  we  all  are  together.  Now,  get 
it  well  into  your  pates  that  in  a  fortnight's  time  from  now  you 
will  be  the  victors,  and  dressed  in  new  clothes ;  you  shall  all 
have  greatcoats,  strong  gaiters,  and  famous  pairs  of  shoes ;  but, 
my  children,  you  will  have  to  march  on  Milan  to  take  them, 
where  all  these  things  are. ' 

"  So  they  marched.     The  French,  crushed  as  flat  as  a  pan- 


THE  NAPOLEON  OF  THE   PEOPLE.  177 

cake,  held  up  their  heads  again.  There  were  thirty  thousand 
of  us  tatterdemalions  against  eighty  thousand  swaggerers  of 
Germans — fine  tall  men  and  well  equipped  ;  I  can  see  them  yet. 
Then  Napoleon,  who  was  only  Bonaparte  in  those  days,  breathed 
goodness  knows  what  into  us,  and  on  we  marched  night  and 
day.  We  rapped  their  knuckles  at  Montenotte  ;  we  hurry  on 
to  thrash  them  at  Rivoli,  Lodi,  Areola,  and  Millesimo,  and 
we  never  let  them  go.  The  army  came  to  have  a  liking  for 
winning  battles.  Then  Napoleon  hems  them  in  on  all  sides, 
these  German  generals  did  not  know  where  to  hide  themselves 
so  as  to  have  a  little  peace  and  comfort ;  he  drubs  them 
soundly,  cribs  ten  thousand  of  their  men  at  a  time  by  sur- 
rounding them  with  fifteen  hundred  Frenchmen,  whom  he 
makes  to  spring  up  after  his  fashion,  and  at  last  he  takes 
their  cannon,  victuals,  money,  ammunition,  and  everything 
they  have  that  is  worth  taking  ;  he  pitches  them  into  the 
water,  he  beats  them  on  the  mountains,  snaps  at  them  in  the  air, 
gobbles  them  up  on  the  earth,  and  thrashes  them  everywhere. 
"  There  are  the  troops  in  full  feather  again  !  For,  look 
you,  the  Emperor  (who,  for  that  matter,  was  a  wit)  soon  sent 
for  the  inhabitant,  and  told  him  that  he  had  come  there  to 
deliver  him.  Whereupon  the  civilian  finds  us  free  quarters 
and  makes  much  of  us,  so  do  the  women,  who  showed  great 
discernment.  To  come  to  a  final  end  ;  in  Ventose  '96,  which 
was  at  that  time  what  the  month  of  March  is  now,  we  had 
been  driven  up  into  a  corner  of  the  Pays  des  Marmottes  ;  but 
after  the  campaign,  lo  and  behold  !  we  were  the  masters  of 
Italy,  just  as  Napoleon  had  prophesied.  And  in  the  month  of 
March  following,  in  one  year  and  in  two  campaigns,  he  brings 
us  within  sight  of  Vienna;  we  had  made  a  clean  sweep  of 
them.  We  had  gobbled  down  three  armies  one  after  another, 
and  taken  the  conceit  out  of  four  Austrian  generals ;  one  of 
them,  an  old  man  who  had  white  hair,  had  been  roasted  like 
a  rat  in  the  straw  before  Mantua.  The  kings  were  suing  for 
mercy  on  their  knees.  Peace  had  been  won.  Could  a  mere 
12 


178  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

mortal  have  done  that?  No.  God  helped  him,  that  is  cer- 
tain. He  distributed  himself  about  like  the  five  loaves  in  the 
Gospel,  commanded  on  the  battlefield  all  day,  and  drew  up 
his  plans  at  night.  The  sentries  always  saw  him  coming  and 
going ;  he  neither  ate  nor  slept.  Therefore,  recognizing 
these  prodigies,  the  soldier  adopts  him  for  his  father.  But, 
forward  ! 

**  The  other  folk  there  in  Paris,  seeing  all  this,  say  among 
themselves — 

"  '  Here  is  a  pilgrim  who  appears  to  take  his  instructions 
from  heaven  above  ;  he  is  uncommonly  likely  to  lay  a  hand 
on  France.  We  must  let  him  loose  on  Asia  or  America,  and 
that,  perhaps,  will  keep  him  quiet.' 

*'  The  same  thing  was  decreed  for  him  as  for  Jesus  Christ ; 
for,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  they  give  him  orders  to  go  on  duty 
down  in  Egypt.  See  his  resemblance  to  the  Son  of  God  ! 
That  is  not  all,  though.  He  calls  all  his  fire-eaters  about  him, 
all  those  into  whom  he  had  more  particularly  put  the  devil, 
and  talks  to  them  in  this  way — 

"  '  My  friends,  for  the  time  being  they  are  giving  us  Egypt 
to  stop  our  mouths.  But  we  will  swallow  down  Egypt  in  a 
brace  of  shakes,  just  as  we  swallowed  Italy,  and  private 
soldiers  shall  be  princes,  and  shall  have  broad  lands  of  their 
own.     Forward  !  ' 

"  *  Forward,  lads  ! '  cry  the  sergeants. 

**  So  we  come  to  Toulon  on  the  way  to  Egypt.  Where- 
upon the  English  put  to  sea  with  all  their  fleet.  But  when  we 
are  on  board,  Napoleon  says  to  us — 

** '  They  will  not  see  us  :  and  it  is  right  and  proper  that  you 
should  know  henceforward  that  your  general  has  a  star  in  the 
sky  tliat  guides  us  and  watches  over  us  !  ' 

"So  said,  so  done.  As  we  sailed  over  the  sea  we  took 
Malta,  by  way  of  an  orange  to  quench  his  thirst  for  victory, 
for  he  was  a  man  who  must  always  be  doing  something. 
There  we  are  in  Egypt.     Well  and  good.     Diff"erent  orders. 


THE  NAPOLEON   OF   THE  PEOPLE.  179 

The  Egyptians,  look  you,  are  men  who,  ever  since  the  world 
has  been  the  world,  have  been  in  the  habit  of  having  giants 
to  reign  over  them,  and  armies  like  swarms  of  ants ;  because 
it  is  a  country  full  of  genii  and  crocodiles,  where  they  have 
built  up  pyramids  as  big  as  our  mountains;  the  fancy  took 
them  to  stow  their  kings  under  the  pyramids,  so  as  to  keep 
them  fresh,  a  thing  which  mightily  pleases  them  all  round  out 
there.  Whereupon,  as  we  landed,  the  Little  Corporal  said  to 
us — 

"  '  My  children,  the  country  which  you  arc  about  to  con- 
quer worships  a  lot  of  idols  which  you  must  respect,  because 
the  Frenchman  ought  to  be  on  good  terms  with  all  the  world, 
and  fight  people  without  giving  annoyance.  Get  it  well  into 
your  heads  to  let  everything  alone  at  first ;  for  we  shall  have 
it  all  bye  and  bye  !     And  forward  !  ' 

"So  far  so  good.  But  all  those  people  had  heard  a 
prophecy  of  Napoleon,  under  the  name  of  Kebir  Bonaberdis, 
a  word  which  in  their  lingo  means,  '  The  sultan  fires  a  shot,' 
and  they  feared  him  like  the  devil.  So  the  Grand  Turk,  Asia, 
and  Africa  have  recourse  to  magic,  and  they  send  a  demon 
against  us,  named  the  Mahdi,  who  it  was  thought  had  come 
down  from  heaven  on  a  white  charger  which,  like  its  master, 
was  bullet-proof,  and  the  pair  of  them  lived  on  the  air  of  that 
part  of  the  world.  There  are  people  who  have  seen  them, 
but  for  my  part  I  cannot  give  you  any  certain  information 
about  them.  They  were  the  divinities  of  Arabia  and  of  the 
Mamelukes  who  wished  their  troopers  to  believe  that  the 
Mahdi  had  the  power  of  preventing  them  from  dying  in  battle. 
They  gave  out  that  he  was  an  angel  sent  down  to  wage  war 
on  Napoleon,  and  to  get  back  Solomon's  seal,  part  of  their 
paraphernalia  which  they  pretended  our  general  had  stolen. 
You  will  readily  understand  that  we  made  them  cry  peccavi 
(I  have  sinned)  all  the  same. 

"Ah,  just  tell  me  now  how  they  came  to  know  about  that 
compact  of  Napoleon's?     Was  that  natural? 


180  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"They  took  it  into  their  heads  for  certain  that  he  com- 
manded the  genii,  and  that  he  went  from  place  to  place  like  a 
bird  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye ;  and  it  is  a  fact  that  he  was 
everywhere.  At  length  it  came  about  that  he  carried  off  a 
queen  of  theirs.  She  was  the  private  property  of  a  Mame- 
luke, who,  although  he  had  several  more  of  them,  flatly  refused 
to  strike  a  bargain,  though  '  the  other  '  offered  all  his  treasures 
for  her  and  diamonds  as  big  as  pigeons'  eggs.  When  things 
had  come  to  that  pass,  they  could  not  well  be  settled  without 
a  good  deal  of  fighting;  and  there  was  fighting  enough  for 
everybody  and  no  mistake  about  it. 

"  Then  we  are  drawn  up  before  Alexandria,  and  again  at 
Gizeh,  and  before  the  pyramids.  We  had  to  march  over  the 
sands  and  in  the  sun ;  people  whose  eyes  dazzled  used  to  see 
water  that  they  could  not  drink  and  shade  that  made  them 
fume.  But  we  made  short  work  of  the  Mamelukes  as  usual, 
and  everything  goes  down  before  the  voice  of  Napoleon,  who 
seizes  upper  and  lower  Egypt  and  Arabia,  far  and  wide,  till 
we  came  to  the  capitals  of  kingdoms  which  no  longer  existed, 
where  there  were  thousands  and  thousands  of  statues  of  all 
the  devils  in  creation,  all  done  to  the  life,  and  another  curious 
thing  too,  any  quantity  of  lizards.  A  confounded  country 
where  any  one  could  have  as  many  acres  of  land  as  he  wished 
for  as  little  as  he  pleased. 

"  While  he  was  busy  inland,  where  he  meant  to  carry  out 
some  wonderful  ideas  of  his,  the  English  burn  his  fleet  for 
him  in  Aboukir  Bay,  for  they  never  could  do  enough  to  annoy 
us.  But  Napoleon,  who  was  respected  east  and  west,  and 
called  *  my  son'  by  the  Pope,  and  'my  dear  father,'  by 
Mahomet's  cousin,  makes  up  his  mind  to  have  his  revenge  on 
England,  and  to  take  India  in  exchange  for  his  fleet.  He  set 
out  to  lead  us  into  Asia,  by  way  of  the  Red  Sea,  through  a 
country  where  there  were  palaces  for  halting-places,  and 
nothing  but  gold  and  diamonds  to  pay  the  troops  with,  when 
the  Mahdi  comes  to  an  understanding  with  the  plague,  and 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF   THE   PEOPLE.  181 

sends  it  among  us  to  make  a  break  in  our  victories.  Halt ! 
Then  every  man  files  off  to  that  parade  from  which  no  one 
comes  back  on  his  two  feet.  The  dying  soldier  cannot  take 
Acre,  into  which  he  forces  an  entrance  three  times  with  a 
warrior's  impetuous  enthusiasm  ;  the  plague  was  too  strong 
for  us ;  there  was  not  even  time  to  say  '  your  servant,  sir,'  to 
the  plague.  Every  man  was  down  with  it.  Napoleon  alone 
was  as  fresh  as  a  rose ;  the  whole  army  saw  him  drinking  in 
the  plague  without  its  doing  him  any  harm  whatever. 

**  There  now,  my  friends,  was  that  natural,  do  you  think  ? 

**  The  Mamelukes,  knowing  that  we  were  all  on  the  sick- 
list,  want  to  stop  our  road  ;  but  it  was  no  use  trying  that  non- 
sense with  Napoleon.  So  he  spoke  to  his  familiars,  who  had 
tougher  skins  than  the  rest — 

** '  Go  and  clear  the  road  for  me.' 

"  Junot,  who  was  his  devoted  friend,  and  a  first-class  fighter, 
only  takes  a  thousand  men,  and  makes  a  clean  sweep  of  the 
Pacha's  army,  which  had  the  impudence  to  bar  our  way. 
Thereupon  back  we  come  to  Cairo,  our  headquarters,  and  now 
for  another  story: 

**  Napoleon  being  out  of  the  country,  France  allowed  the 
people  in  Paris  to  worry  the  life  out  of  her.  They  kept  back 
the  soldiers'  pay  and  all  their  linen  and  clothing,  left  them  to 
starve,  and  expected  them  to  lay  down  law  to  the  universe, 
without  taking  any  further  trouble  in  the  matter.  They  were 
idiots  of  the  kind  that  amuse  themselves  with  chattering  in- 
stead of  .setting  themselves  to  knead  the  dough.  So  our  armies 
were  defeated,  France  could  not  keep  her  frontiers  ;  The  Man 
was  not  there.  I  say  The  Man,  look  you,  because  that  was 
how  they  called  him ;  but  it  was  stuff  and  nonsense,  for  he 
had  a  star  of  his  own  and  all  his  other  peculiarities,  it  was  the 
rest  of  us  that  were  mere  men.  He  hears  this  history  of 
France  after  his  famous  battle  of  Aboukir,  where  with  a  single 
division  he  routed  the  grand  army  of  the  Turks,  twenty-five 
thousand  strong,  and  jostled  more  than  half  of  them  into  the 


182  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

sea ;  arrah  !  without  losing  more  than  three  hundred  of  his 
own  men.  That  was  his  last  thunder-clap  in  Egypt,  He 
said  to  himself,  seeing  that  all  was  lost  down  there,  *  I  know 
that  I  am  the  saviour  of  France,  and  to  France  I  must  go.' 

"  But  you  must  clearly  understand  that  the  army  did  not 
know  of  his  departure  ;  for  if  they  had,  they  would  have  kept 
him  there  by  force  to  make  him  Emperor  of  the  East.  So 
there  we  all  are  without  him,  and  in  low  spirits,  for  he  was 
the  life  of  us.  He  leaves  Kleber  in  command,  a  great  watch- 
dog, who  passed  in  his  checks  at  Cairo,  murdered  by  an 
Egyptian  whom  they  put  to  death  by  spiking  him  with  a 
bayonet,  which  is  their  way  of  guillotining  people  out  there ; 
but  he  suffered  so  much  that  a  soldier  took  pity  on  the  scoun- 
drel and  handed  his  flask  to  him ;  and  the  Egyptian  turned 
up  his  eyes  then  and  there  with  all  the  pleasure  in  life.  But 
there  is  not  much  fun  for  us  about  this  little  affair.  Napoleon 
steps  aboard  of  a  little  cockleshell,  a  mere  nothing  of  a  skiff, 
called  the  Fortune,  and  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  in  the 
teeth  of  the  English,  who  were  blockading  the  place  with 
vessels  of  the  line  and  cruisers  and  everything  that  carries 
canvas,  he  lands  in  France,  for  he  always  had  the  faculty  of 
taking  the  sea  at  a  stride.  Was  that  natural  ?  Bah  !  as  soon 
as  he  is  landed  at  Frejus,  it  is  as  good  as  saying  that  he  has 
set  foot  in  Paris.  Everybody  there  worships  him ;  but  he 
calls  the  government  together. 

"'What  have  you  done  to  my  children,  the  soldiers?'  he 
says  to  the  lawyers.  '  You  are  a  set  of  good-for-nothings  who 
make  fools  of  other  people,  and  feather  your  own  nests  at  the 
expense  of  France.  It  will  not  do.  I  speak  in  the  name  of 
every  one  who  is  discontented.' 

**  Thereupon  they  want  to  put  him  off  and  to  get  rid  of 
him;  but  not  a  bit  of  it !  He  locks  them  up  in  the  barracks 
where  they  used  to  argufy  and  makes  them  jump  out  of  the 
windows.  Then  he  makes  them  follow  in  his  train,  and  they 
All  become  as  mute  as  fishes  and  supple  as  tobacco  pouches. 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF   THE   PEOPLE.  183 

So  he  becomes  Consul  at  a  blow.  He  was  not  the  man  to 
doubt  the  existence  of  the  Supreme  Being;  he  kept  his  word 
with  Providence,  who  had  kept  His  promise  in  earnest ;  he 
sets  up  religion  again,  and  gives  back  the  churches,  and  they 
ring  the  bells  for  God  and  Napoleon.  So  every  one  is  satis- 
fied ;  prima,  the  priests  with  whom  he  allows  no  one  to 
meddle ;  segondo,  the  merchant  folk  who  carry  on  their  trades 
without  fear  of  the  rapiamus  of  the  law  that  had  pressed  too 
heavily  on  them;  tertio,  the  nobles;  for  people  had  fallen 
into  an  unfortunate  habit  of  putting  them  to  death,  and  he 
puts  a  stop  to  this. 

"  But  there  were  enemies  to  be  cleared  out  of  the  way,  and 
he  was  not  the  one  to  go  to  sleep  after  mess ;  and  his  eyes, 
look  you,  traveled  all  over  the  world  as  if  it  had  been  a  man's 
face.  The  next  thing  he  did  was  to  turn  up  in  Italy;  it  was 
just  as  if  he  had  put  his  head  out  of  the  window  and  the  sight 
of  him  was  enough  ;  they  gulp  down  the  Austrians  at  Marengo 
like  a  whale  swallowing  gudgeons  !  O,  ho  !  The  French  vic- 
tories blew  their  trumpets  so  loud  that  the  whole  world  could 
hear  the  noise,  and  there  was  an  end  of  it. 

"  *  We  will  not  keep  on  at  this  game  any  longer  !  '  say  the 
Germans. 

"  '  That  is  enough  of  this  sort  of  thing,'  say  the  others. 

"Here  is  the  upshot.  Europe  shows  the  white  feather, 
England  knuckles  under,  general  peace  all  round,  and  kings 
and  peoples  pretending  to  embrace  each  other.  While  then 
and  there  the  Emperor  hits  on  the  idea  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor,  there's  a  fine  thing  if  you  like  ! 

"He  spoke  to  the  whole  army  at  Boulogne.  'In  France,' 
so  he  said,  '  every  man  is  brave.  So  the  civilian  who  does 
gloriously  shall  be  the  soldier's  sister,  the  soldier  shall  be  his 
brother,  and  both  shall  stand  together  beneath  the  flag  of 
honor.' 

"  By  the  time  that  the  rest  of  us  who  were  away  down  there 
in  Egypt  had  come  back  again,  everything  was  changed.     We 


184  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

had  seen  him  last  as  a  general,  and  in  no  time  we  find  that  he 
is  Emperor  !  And  when  this  was  settled  (and  it  may  safely  be 
said  that  every  one  was  satisfied)  there  was  a  holy  ceremony 
such  as  never  was  seen  under  the  canopy  of  heaven.  Faith, 
France  gave  herself  to  him,  like  a  handsome  girl  to  a  lancer, 
and  the  Pope  and  all  his  cardinals  in  robes  of  red  and  gold 
come  across  the  Alps  on  purpose  to  anoint  him  before  the 
army  and  the  people,  who  clap  their  hands. 

"There  is  one  thing  that  it  would  be  very  wrong  to  keep 
back  from  you.  While  he  was  in  Egypt,  in  the  desert  not  far 
away  from  Syria,  the  '■  Red  Man '  had  appeared  to  him  on  the 
mountain  of  Moses,  in  order  to  say,  '  Everything  is  going  on 
well.'  Then  again,  on  the  eve  of  the  victory  at  Marengo,  the 
'  Red  Man  '  springs  to  his  feet  in  front  of  the  Emperor  for  the 
second  time,  and  says  to  him — 

"'You  shall  see  the  world  at  your  feet;  you  shall  be 
Emperor  of  the  French,  King  of  Italy,  master  of  Holland, 
ruler  of  Spain,  Portugal  and  the  Illyrian  Provinces,  protector 
of  Germany,  saviour  of  Poland,  first  eagle  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor,  and  all  the  rest  of  it.' 

"  That  *  Red  Man,'  look  you,  was  a  notion  of  his  own,  who 
ran  on  errands  and  carried  messages,  so  many  people  say,  be- 
tween him  and  his  star.  I  myself  have  never  believed  that ; 
but  the  *  Red  Man  '  is,  undoubtedly,  a  fact.  Napoleon  him- 
self spoke  of  the  '  Red  Man  *  who  lived  up  in  the  roof  of  the 
Tuileries,  and  who  used  to  come  to  him,  he  said,  in  moments 
of  trouble  and  difficulty.  So  on  the  night  .after  his  corona- 
tion Napoleon  saw  him  for  the  third  time,  and  they  talked 
over  a  lot  of  things  together. 

**  Then  the  Emperor  goes  straight  to  Milan  to  have  himself 
crowned  King  of  Italy,  and  then  came  the  real  triumph  of  the 
soldier.  For  every  one  who  could  write  became  an  officer 
forthwith,  and  pensions  and  gifts  of  duchies  poured  down  in 
showers.  There  were  fortunes  for  the  staff  that  never  cost 
France  a  penny,  and  the  Legion  of  Honor  was  as  good  as  an 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF   THE   PEOPLE.  185 

annuity  for  the  rank  and  file ;  I  still  draw  my  pension  on  the 
strength  of  it.  In  short,  here  were  armies  provided  for  in  a 
way  that  had  never  been  seen  before  !  But  the  Emperor,  who 
knew  that  he  was  to  be  Emperor  over  everybody,  and  not  only 
over  the  army,  bethinks  himself  of  the  bourgeois,  and  sets 
them  to  build  fairy  monuments  in  places  that  had  been  as  bare 
as  the  back  of  my  hand  till  then.  Suppose,  now,  that  you  are 
coming  out  of  Spain  and  on  the  way  to  Berlin  ;  well,  you 
would  see  triumphal  arches,  and  in  the  sculpture  upon  them  the 
common  soldiers  are  done  every  bit  as  beautifully  as  the 
generals ! 

*'  In  two  or  three  years  Napoleon  fills  his  cellars  with  gold, 
makes  bridges,  palaces,  roads,  scholars,  festivals,  laws,  fleets, 
and  harbors;  he  spends  millions  on  millions,  ever  so  much, 
and  ever  so  much  more  to  it,  so  that  I  have  heard  it  said  that 
he  could  have  paved  the  whole  of  France  with  five-franc  pieces 
if  the  fancy  had  taken  him  ;  and  all  this  without  putting  any 
taxes  on  you  people  here.  So  when  he  was  comfortably  seated 
on  his  throne,  and  so  thoroughly  the  master  of  the  situation 
that  all  Europe  was  waiting  for  leave  to  do  anything  for  him 
that  he  might  happen  to  want ;  as  he  had  four  brothers  and 
three  sisters,  he  said  to  us,  just  as  it  might  be  by  way  of  con- 
versation, in  the  order  of  the  day — 

"  *  Children,  is  it  fitting  that  your  Emperor's  relations 
should  beg  their  bread  ?  No ;  I  want  them  all  to  be  lumi- 
naries, like  me  in  fact  !  Therefore,  it  is  urgently  necessary  to 
conquer  a  kingdom  for  each  one  of  them,  so  that  the  French 
nation  may  be  masters  everywhere,  so  that  the  Guard  may 
make  the  whole  earth  tremble,  and  France  may  spit  wherever 
she  likes,  and  every  nation  shall  say  to  her,  as  it  is  written  on 
rny  coins,  "  God  protects  you."  ' 

"'All  right!'  answers  the  army;  'we  will  fish  up  king- 
doms for  you  with  the  bayonet.' 

"  Ah  !  there  was  no  backing  out  of  it,  look  you  !  If  he 
had  taken  it  into  his  head  to  conquer  the  moon,  we  should 


186  THE    CO UNTR  Y  DOCTOR. 

have  had  to  put  everything  in  train,  pack  our  knapsacks,  and 
scramble  up ;  luckily,  he  had  no  wish  for  that  excursion.  The 
kings  who  were  used  to  the  comforts  of  a  throne,  of  course, 
objected  to  be  lugged  off,  so  we  had  marching  orders.  We 
march,  we  get  there,  and  the  earth  begins  to  shake  to  its 
centre  again.  What  times  they  were  for  wearing  out  men  and 
shoe-leather  !  And  the  hard  knocks  that  they  gave  us  !  Only 
Frenchmen  could  have  stood  it.  But  you  are  not  ignorant 
that  a  Frenchman  is  a  born  philosopher;  he  knows  that  he 
must  die  a  little  sooner  or  a  little  later.  So  we  used  to  die 
without  a  word,  because  we  had  the  pleasure  of  watching  the 
Emperor  do  this  on  the  maps." 

Here  the  soldier  swung  quickly  round  on  one  foot,  so  as  to 
trace  a  circle  on  the  barn  floor  with  the  other. 

*'  'There,  that  shall  be  a  kingdom,'  he  used  to  say,  and  it 
was  a  kingdom.  What  fine  times  they  were  !  Colonels  be- 
came generals  whilst  you  were  looking  at  them,  generals  became 
marshals  of  France,  and  marshals  became  kings.  There  is 
one  of  them  still  left  on  his  feet  to  keep  Europe  in  mind  of 
those  days,  Gascon  though  he  may  be,  and  a  traitor  to  France 
that  he  might  keep  his  crown ;  and  he  did  not  blush  for  his 
shame,  for,  after  all,  a  crown,  look  you,  is  made  of  gold. 
The  very  sappers  and  miners  who  knew  how  to  read  became 
great  nobles  in  the  same  way.  And  I,  who  am  telling  you  all 
this,  have  seen  in  Paris  eleven  kings  and  a  crowd  of  princes  all 
round  about  Napoleon,  like  rays  about  the  sun  !  Keep  this  well 
in  your  minds,  that  as  every  soldier  stood  a  chance  of  having 
a  throne  of  his  own  (provided  he  showed  himself  worthy  of 
it),  a  corporal  of  the  Guard  was  by  way  of  being  a  sight  to 
see,  and  they  gaped  at  him  as  he  went  by  ;  for  every  one  came 
by  his  share  after  a  victory,  it  was  rnade  perfectly  clear  in  the 
bulletin.  And  what  battles  they  were  !  Austerlitz,  where  the 
army  was  manoeuvred  as  if  it  had  been  a  review ;  Eylau,  where 
the  Russians  were  drowned  in  a  lake,  just  as  if  Napoleon  had 
breathed  on  them  and  blown  them  in ;  Wagram,  where  the 


THE   NAPOLEON   OF   THE   PEOPLE.  187 

fighting  was  kept  up  for  three  whole  days  without  flinching. 
In  short,  there  were  as  many  battles  as  there  are  saints  in  the 
calendar. 

"Then  it  was  made  quite  clear  beyond  a  doubt  that  Napo- 
leon bore  the  sword  of  God  in  his  scabbard.  He  had  a  regard 
for  the  soldier.  He  took  the  soldier  for  his  child.  He  was 
anxious  that  you  should  have  shoes,  shirts,  greatcoats,  bread, 
and  cartridges;  but  he  kept  up  his  majesty,  too,  for  reigning 
was  his  own  particular  occupation.  But,  all  the  same,  a  ser- 
geant, or  even  a  common  soldier,  could  go  up  to  him  and  call 
him  '  Emperor,' just  as  you  might  say'  My  good  friend'  to 
me  at  times.  And  he  would  give  an  answer  to  anything  you 
put  before  him.  He  used  to  sleep  on  the  snow  just  like  the 
rest  of  us — in  short,  he  looked  almost  like  an  ordinary  man; 
but  I  who  am  telling  you  all  these  things  have  seen  him  my- 
self with  the  grapeshot  whizzing  about  his  ears,  no  more  put 
out  by  it  than  you  are  at  this  moment ;  never  moving  a  limb, 
watching  through  his  field-glass,  always  looking  after  his  busi- 
ness; so  we  stood  our  ground  likewise,  as  cool  and  calm  as 
John  the  Baptist.  I  do  not  know  how  he  did  it ;  but  when- 
ever he  spoke,  a  something  in  his  words  made  our  hearts  burn 
within  us;  and  just  to  let  him  see  that  we  were  his  children, 
and  that  it  was  not  in  us  to  shirk  or  flinch,  we  used  to  walk 
just  as  usual  right  up  to  the  mouths  of  cannon  that  were 
belching  forth  smoke  and  vomiting  battalions  of  balls,  while 
never  a  man  would  so  much  as  say, '  Lookout  ! '  It  was  a  some- 
thing that  made  dying  men  raise  their  heads  to  salute  him  and 
cry,  '  Long  live  the  Emperor  !  ' 

"Was  that  natural?  Would  you  have  done  this  for  an  or- 
dinary man  ? 

"Thereupon,  having  fitted  up  all  his  family,  and  things 
having  so  turned  out  that  the  Empress  Josephine  (a  good 
woman  for  all  that)  had  no  children,  he  was  obliged  to  part 
company  with  her,  although  he  loved  her  not  a  little.  But 
he  must  have  children,  for  reasons  of  state.     All  the  crowned 


188  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

heads  of  Europe,  when  they  heard  of  his  difficulty,  squabbled 
among  themselves  as  to  who  should  find  him  a  wife.  He 
married  an  Austrian  princess,  so  they  say,  who  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  Caesars,  a  man  of  antiquity  whom  everybody  talks 
about,  not  only  in  our  country,  where  it  is  said  that  most 
things  were  his  doing,  but  also  all  over  Europe.  And  so  cer- 
tain sure  is  that,  that  I  who  am  talking  to  you  have  been  my- 
self across  the  Danube,  where  I  saw  the  ruins  of  a  bridge 
built  by  that  man  ;  and  it  appeared  that  he  was  some  connection 
of  Napoleon's  at  Rome,  for  the  Emperor  claimed  succession 
there  for  his  son. 

"  So,  after  his  wedding,  which  was  a  holiday  for  the  whole 
world,  and  when  they  relieved  the  people  of  their  taxes  for 
ten  years  to  come  (though  they  had  to  pay  them  just  the  same 
after  all,  because  the  excisemen  took  no  notice  of  the  procla- 
mation)— after  his  wedding,  I  say,  his  wife  had  a  child  who 
was  King  of  Rome  :  a  child  was  born  a  king  while  his  father 
was  alive,  a  thing  that  had  never  been  seen  in  the  world 
before  !  That  day  a  balloon  set  out  from  Paris  to  carry  the 
news  to  Rome,  and  went  all  the  way  in  one  day.  There, 
now !  Is  there  one  of  you  who  will  stand  me  out  that  there 
was  nothing  supernatural  in  that  ?  No,  it  was  decreed  on 
high.  And  the  mischief  take  those  who  will  not  allow  that  it 
was  wafted  over  by  God  himself,  so  as  to  add  to  the  honor 
and  glory  of  France  ! 

"But  there  was  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  a  friend  of  our 
Emperor,  who  was  put  out  because  he  had  not  married  a 
Russian  lady.  So  the  Russian  backs  up  our  enemies,  the 
English,  for  there  had  always  been  something  to  prevent 
Napoleon  from  putting  a  spoke  in  their  wheel.  Clearly  an 
end  must  be  made  of  fowl  of  that  feather.  Napoleon  is 
vexed,  and  he  says  to  us — 

"  '  Soldiers  !  You  have  been  the  masters  of  every  capital 
in  Europe,  except  Moscow,  which  is  allied  to  England.  So, 
in  order  to  conquer  London  and  India,    which  belong  to 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  189 

them  in  London,  I  find  it  absolutely  necessary  that  we  go  to 
Moscow. ' 

"Thereupon  the  greatest  army  that  ever  wore  gaiters,  and 
left  its  footprints  all  over  the  globe,  is  brought  together,  and 
drawn  up  with  such  peculiar  cleverness,  that  the  Emperor 
passed  a  million  of  men  in  review,  all  in  a  single  day. 

"'Hourra!'  cry  the  Russians,  and  there  is  all  Russia 
assembled,  a  lot  of  brutes  of  Cossacks  that  you  never  can 
come  up  with  !  It  was  country  against  country,  a  general 
stramash ;  we  had  to  look  out  for  ourselves.  '  It  was  all 
Asia  against  Europe,'  as  the  'Red  Man  '  had  said  to  Napo- 
leon. 'All  right,'  Napoleon  had  answered,  '  I  shall  be  ready 
for  them.' 

"And  there,  in  fact,  were  all  the  kings  who  came  to  lick 
Napoleon's  hand.  Austria,  Prussia,  Bavaria,  Saxony,  Poland, 
and  Italy,  all  speaking  us  fair  and  going  along  with  us ;  it  was 
a  fine  thing  !  The  eagles  had  never  cooed  before  as  they  did 
on  parade  in  those  days,  when  they  were  reared  above  all  the 
flags  of  all  the  nations  of  Europe.  Tlie  Poles  could  not  con- 
tain their  joy  because  the  Emperor  had  a  notion  of  setting  up 
their  kingdom  again  ;  and  ever  since  Poland  and  France  have 
always  been  like  brothers.  In  short,  the  army  shouts,  '  Russia 
shall  be  ours  !  ' 

"We  cross  the  frontiers,  the  entire  lot  of  us.  We  march 
and  still  further  march,  but  never  a  Russian  do  we  see.  At 
last  all  our  watchdogs  are  encamped  at  Borodino.  That  was 
where  I  received  the  '  Cross,'  and  there  is  no  denying  that  it 
was  a  cursed  battle.  The  Emperor  was  not  easy  in  his  mind  ; 
he  had  seen  the  'Red  Man,' who  said  to  him,  'My  child, 
you  are  going  a  little  too  fast  for  your  feet ;  you  will  run  short 
of  men,  and  your  friends  will  play  you  false.' 

"Thereupon  the  Emperor  proposes  a  treaty.  But  before 
he  signs  it,  he  says  to  us — 

"  *  Let  us  give  these  Russians  a  drubbing  ! ' 

"  'All  right  ! '  cried  the  army. 


190  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"  '  Forward  !  '  say  the  sergeants. 

"  My  clothes  were  all  falling  to  pieces,  my  shoes  were  worn 
out  with  trapezing  over  those  roads  out  there,  which  are  not 
good  going  at  all.  But  it  is  all  one.  '  Since  here  is  the  last 
of  the  row,'  said  I  to  myself,  'I  mean  to  get  all  I  can  out 
of  it.' 

"  We  were  posted  before  the  great  ravine ;  we  had  seats  in 
the  front  row.  The  signal  is  given,  and  seven  hundred  guns 
begin  a  conversation  fit  to  make  the  blood  spirt  from  your 
ears.  One  should  give  the  devil  his  due,  and  the  Russians  let 
themselves  be  cut  in  pieces  just  like  Frenchmen ;  they  did  not 
give  way,  and  we  made  no  advance. 

"  '  Forward  ! '  is  the  cry ;  '  here  is  the  Emperor.' 

"So  it  was.  He  rides  past  us  at  a  gallop,  and  makes  a 
sign  to  us  that  a  great  deal  depends  on  our  carrying  the 
redoubt.  He  puts  fresh  heart  into  us  ;  we  rush  forward,  I  am 
the  first  man  to  reach  the  gorge.  Ah  !  tnon  Dieu  !  how  they 
fell,  colonels,  lieutenants,  and  common  soldiers,  all  alike  ! 
There  were  shoes  to  fit  up  those  who  had  none,  and  epaulettes 

for  the  knowing  fellows  that  knew  how  to  write. Victory 

is  the  cry  all  along  the  line  !  And,  upon  my  word,  there  were 
twenty-five  thousand  Frenchmen  lying  on  the  field.  No  more, 
I  assure  you  !  Such  a  thing  was  never  seen  before ;  it  was  jusr 
like  a  field  when  the  corn  is  cut,  with  a  man  lying  there  for 
every  ear  of  corn.  That  sobered  the  rest  of  us.  The  Em- 
peror comes,  and  we  make  a  circle  round  about  him,  and  he 
coaxes  us  round  (for  he  could  be  very  nice  when  he  chose), 
and  persuades  us  to  dine  with  Duke  Humphrey,  when  we  were 
as  hungry  as  hunters.  Then  our  consoler  distributes  the 
Crosses  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  himself,  salutes  the  dead,  and 
says  to  us,  '  On  to  Moscow  !  ' 

** '  To  Moscow,  so  be  it !  '  say?  the  army. 

**  We  take  Moscow.  What  do  the  Russians  do  but  set  fire 
to  their  city  !  There  was  a  blaze,  two  leagues  of  bonfire  that 
burned  for  two  days  !     The  buildings  fell  about  our  ears  like 


THE  NAPOLEON  OF   THE   PEOPLE.  191 

slates,  and  molten  lead  and  iron  came  down  in  showers;  it 
was  really  horrible ;  it  was  a  light  to  see  our  sorrows  by,  I  can 
tell  you  !  The  Emperor  said,  '  There,  that  is  enough  of  this 
sort  of  thing;  all  my  men  shall  stay  here.' 

"We  amuse  ourselves  for  a  bit  by  recruiting  and  repairing 
our  frames,  for  we  really  were  much  fatigued  by  the  campaign. 
We  take  away  with  us  a  gold  cross  from  the  top  of  the  Kremlin, 
and  every  soldier  had  a  little  fortune.  But  on  the  way  back 
the  winter  came  down  on  us  a  month  earlier  than  usual,  a 
matter  which  the  learned  (like  a  set  of  foolsj  have  never  suffi- 
ciently explained,  and  we  are  nipped  with  the  cold.  We 
were  no  longer  an  army  after  that,  do  you  understand? 
There  was  an  end  of  generals  and  even  of  the  sergeants  ; 
hunger  and  misery  took  the  command  instead,  and  all  of  us 
were  absolutely  equal  under  their  reign.  All  we  thought  of 
was  how  to  get  back  to  France  ;  no  one  stooped  to  pick  up 
his  gun  or  his  money;  every  one  walked  straight  before  him, 
and  armed  himself  as  he  thought  fit,  and  no  one  cared  about 
glory. 

"  The  Emperor  saw  nothing  of  his  star  all  this  time,  for  the 
weather  was  so  bad.  There  was  some  misunderstanding 
between  him  and  heaven.  Poor  man  !'  how  bad  he  felt  when 
he  saw  his  eagles  flying  with  their  backs  turned  on  victory  ! 
That  was  really  too  rough  !  Well,  the  next  thing  is  the 
Beresina.  And  here  and  now,  my  friends,  anyone  can  assure 
you  on  his  honor,  and  by  all  that  is  sacred,  that  never,  no, 
never  since  there  have  been  men  on  earth,  never  in  this  world 
has  there  been  seen  an  army  in  such  a  stew — caissons,  trans- 
ports, artillery  and  all — in  such  snow  as  that  and  under  such 
a  pitiless  sky.  It  was  so  cold  that  you  burned  your  hand  on 
the  barrel  of  your  gun  if  you  happened  to  touch  it.  There  it 
was  that  the  pontooneers  saved  the  army,  for  the  pontooneers 
stood  firm  at  their  posts  ;  it  was  there  that  Gondrin  behaved 
like  a  hero,  and  he  is  the  sole  survivor  of  all  the  men  who 
were  dogged  enough  to  stand  in  the  river  so  as  to  build  the 


192  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

bridges  on  which  the  army  crossed  over,  and  so  escaped  the 
Russians,  who  still  respected  the  Grand  Army  on  account  of 
its  past  victories.  And  Gondrin  is  an  accomplished  soldier," 
he  went  on,  pointing  to  his  friend,  who  was  gazing  at  him 
with  the  rapt  attention  peculiar  to  deaf  people,  "  a  distin- 
guished soldier  who  deserves  to  have  your  very  highest  esteem. 

"  I  saw  the  Emperor  standing  by  the  bridge,"  he  went  on, 
"and  never  feeling  the  cold  at  all.  Was  that,  again,  a 
natural  thing?  He  was  looking  on  at  the  loss  of  his  treasures, 
of  his  friends,  and  those  who  had  fought  with  him  in  Egypt. 
Bah  !  there  was  an  end  of  everything.  Women  and  wagons 
and  guns  were  all  engulfed  and  swallowed  up,  everything 
went  to  wreck  and  ruin.  A  few  of  the  bravest  among  us 
saved  the  eagles,  for  the  eagles,  look  you,  meant  France,  and 
all  the  rest  of  you ;  it  was  the  civil  and  military  honor  of 
France  that  was  in  our  keeping,  there  must  be  no  spot  on  the 
honor  of  France,  and  the  cold  should  never  make  her  bow  her 
head.  There  was  no  getting  warm  except  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  Emperor ;  for  whenever  he  was  in  danger  we 
hurried  up,  all  frozen  as  we  were — we  who  would  not  stop  to 
hold  out  a  hand  to  a  fallen  friend. 

"  They  say,  too,  that  he  shed  tears  of  a  night  over  his  poor 
family  of  soldiers.  Only  he  and  Frenchmen  could  have 
pulled  themselves  out  of  such  a  plight ;  but  we  did  pull  our- 
selves out,  though,  as  I  am  telling  you,  it  was  with  loss,  ay, 
and  heavy  loss.  The  allies  had  eaten  up  all  our  provisions ; 
everybody  began  to  betray  him,  just  as  the  '  Red  Man  '  had 
foretold.  The  rattle-pates  in  Paris,  who  had  kept  quiet  ever 
since  the  Imperial  Guard  had  been  established,  think  that  he 
is  dead,  and  hatch  a  conspiracy.  They  set  to  work  in  the 
Home  Office  to  overturn  the  Emperor.  These  things  come 
to  his  knowledge  and  worry  him  ;  he  says  to  us  at  parting : 
*  Good-bye,  children  ;  keep  to  your  posts,  I  will  come  back 
again.' 

"Bah!     Those  generals  of  his  lose  their  heads  at  once; 


THE   NAPOLEO.Y  OF   THE   PEOPLE.  193 

for  when  he  was  away,  it  was  not  like  the  same  thing.  The 
marshals  fall  out  among  themselves,  and  make  blunders,  as 
was  only  natural,  for  Napoleon  in  his  kindness  had  fed  them 
on  gold  till  they  had  grown  as  fat  as  butter,  and  they  had  no 
mind  to  march.  Troubles  came  of  this,  for  many  of  them 
stayed  inactive  in  garrison  towns  in  the  rear,  without  attempt- 
ing to  tickle  up  the  backs  of  the  enemy  behind  us,  and  we 
were  being  driven  back  on  France.  But  Napoleon  comes 
back  among  us  with  fresh  troops  ;  conscripts  they  were,  and 
famous  conscripts  too ;  he  had  put  some  thorough  notions  of 
discipline  into  them — the  whelps  were  good  to  set  their  teeth 
in  anybody.  He  had  a  bourgeois  guard  of  honor  too,  and 
fine  troops  they  were  !  They  melted  away  like  butter  on  a 
gridiron.  We  may  put  a  bold  front  on  it,  but  everything  is 
against  us,  although  the  army  still  performs  prodigies  of 
valor.  Whole  nations  fought  against  nations  in  tremendous 
battles  at  Dresden,  Liitzen,  and  Bautzen,  and  then  it  was  that 
France  showed  extraordinary  heroism,  for  you  must  all  of  you 
bear  in  mind  that  in  those  times  a  stout  grenadier  only  lasted 
six  months. 

"We  always  won  the  day,  but  the  English  were  always  on 
our  track,  putting  nonsense  into  other  nations'  heads,  and 
stirring  them  up  to  revolt.  In  short,  we  cleared  a  way 
through  all  these  mobs  of  nations  ;  for  wherever  the  Emperor 
appeared,  we  made  a  passage  for  him  ;  for  on  the  land  as  on 
the  sea,  whenever  he  said,  '  I  wish  to  go  forward,'  we  made 
the  way. 

"  There  comes  a  final  end  to  it  at  last.  We  are  back  in 
France ;  and  in  spite  of  the  bitter  weather,  it  did  one's  heart 
good  to  breathe  one's  native  air  again,  it  set  up  many  a  poor 
fellow;  and  as  for  me,  it  put  new  life  into  me,  I  can  tell  you. 
But  it  was  a  question  all  at  once  of  defending  France,  our  fair 
land  of  France.  All  Europe  was  up  in  arms  against  us ;  they 
took  it  in  bad  part  that  we  had  tried  to  keep  the  Russians  in 
order  by  driving  them  back  within  their  own  borders,  so  that 
13 


194  THE   COUNTRY  DOCIOR. 

they  should  not  gobble  us  up,  for  those  Northern  folk  have  a 
strong  liking  for  eating  up  the  men  of  the  South,  it  is  a  habit 
they  have ;  I  have  heard  the  same  thing  of  them  from  several 
generals. 

**  So  the  Emperor  finds  his  own  father-in-law,  his  friends 
whom  he  had  made  crowned  kings,  and  the  rabble  of  princes 
to  whom  he  had  given  back  their  thrones  were  all  against 
him.  Even  Frenchmen  and  allies  in  our  own  ranks  turned 
against  us,  by  orders  from  high  quarters,  as  at  Leipsic.  Com- 
mon soldiers  would  hardly  be  capable  of  such  abominations ; 
yet  these  princes,  as  they  called  themselves,  broke  their  words 
three  times  a  day  !  The  next  thing  they  do  is  to  invade 
France.  Whenever  our  Emperor  shows  his  lion's  face,  the 
enemy  beats  a  retreat ;  he  worked  more  miracles  for  the  de- 
fence of  France  than  he  had  ever  wrought  in  the  conquest  of 
Italy,  the  East,  Spain,  Europe,  and  Russia;  he  has  a  mind  to 
bury  every  foreigner  in  French  soil,  to  give  them  a  respect  for 
France,  so  he  lets  them  come  close  up  to  Paris,  so  as  to  do  for 
them  at  a  single  blow,  and  to  rise  to  the  highest  height  of 
genius  in  the  biggest  battle  that  ever  was  fought,  a  mother  of 
battles  !  But  the  Parisians,  wanting  to  save  their  trumpery 
skins  and  afraid  for  their  two-penny  shops,  open  their  gates, 
and  there  is  a  beginning  of  the  ragusades,  and  an  end  of  all 
joy  and  happiness ;  they  make  a  fool  of  the  Empress,  and  fly 
the  white  flag  out  at  the  windows.  The  Emperor's  closest 
friends  among  his  generals  forsake  him  at  last  and  go  over  to 
the  Bourbons,  of  whom  no  one  had  ever  heard  tell.  Then  he 
bids  us  farewell  at  Fontainebleau  : 

"  'Soldiers! ' (I  can  hear  him  yet,  we  were  all  crying 

just  like  children  ;  the  eagles  and  the  flags  had  been  lowered 
as  if  for  a  funeral.  Ah  !  and  it  was  a  funeral,  I  can  tell  you  ; 
it  was  the  funeral  of  the  empire  ;  those  smart  armies  of  his 
were  nothing  but  skeletons  now.)  So  he  stood  thereon  the 
flight  of  steps  before  his  chS.teau,  and  he  said — 

"  '  Children,  we  have  been  overcome  by  treachery,  but  we 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF   THE   PEOPLE.  195 

shall  meet  again  up  above  in  the  country  of  the  brave.     Pro- 
tect my  child,  I  leave  him  in  your  care.     Lo7ig  live  Napoleon 

11.  r 

"  He  had  thought  of  killing  himself,  so  that  no  one  should 
behold  Napoleon  after  his  defeat ;  like  Jesus  Christ,  before 
the  crucifixion,  he  thought  himself  forsaken  by  God  and  by 
his  talisman,  and  so  he  took  enough  poison  to  kill  a  regiment, 
but  it  had  no  effect  whatever  upon  him.  Another  marvel ! 
he  discovered  that  he  was  immortal  ;  and  feeling  sure  of  his 
case,  and  knowing  that  he  should  be  Emperor  forever,  he  went 
to  an  island  for  a  little  while,  so  as  to  study  the  dispositions 
of  those  folk  who  did  not  fail  to  make  blunder  upon  blunder. 
Whilst  he  was  biding  his  time,  the  Chinese  and  the  brutes  out 
in  Africa,  the  Moors  and  whatnot,  awkward  customers  all  of 
them,  were  so  convinced  that  he  was  something  more  than 
mortal  that  they  respected  his  flag,  saying  that  God  would 
be  displeased  if  any  one  meddled  with  it.  So  he  reigned  over 
all  the  rest  of  the  world,  although  the  doors  of  his  own 
France  had  been  closed  upon  him. 

"Then  he  goes  on  board  the  same  nutshell  of  a  skiff  that 
he  sailed  in  from  Egypt,  passes  under  the  noses  of  the  English 
vessels,  and  sets  foot  in  France.  France  recognizes  her  Em- 
peror, the  cuckoo  flits  from  steeple  to  steeple  ;  France  cries 
with  one  voice,  '  Long  live  the  Emperor  ! '  The  enthusiasm 
for  that  wonder  of  the  ages  was  thoroughly  genuine  in  these 
parts.  Dauphine  behaved  handsomely ;  and  I  was  uncom- 
monly pleased  to  learn  that  people  here  shed  tears  of  joy  on 
seeing  his  gray  overcoat  once  more. 

"  It  was  on  March  ist  that  Napoleon  set  out  with  two  hun- 
dred men  to  conquer  the  kingdom  of  France  and  Navarre, 
which  by  March  20th  had  become  the  French  Empire  again. 
On  that  day  he  found  himself  in  Paris,  and  a  clean  sweep  had 
been  made  of  everything;  he  had  won  back  his  beloved 
France,  and  had  called  all  his  soldiers  about  him  again,  and 
three  words  of  his  had  done  it  all — '  Here  am  I !  '     'Twas 


196  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

the  greatest  miracle  God  ever  worked  !  Was  it  ever  known 
in  the  world  before  that  a  man  should  do  nothing  but  show  his 
hat,  and  a  whole  empire  became  his  ?  They  fancied  that  France 
was  crushed,  did  they  ?  Never  a  bit  of  it.  A  national  army 
springs  up  again  at  the  sight  of  the  eagle,  and  we  all  march 
to  Waterloo.  There  the  Guard  fall  all  as  one  man.  Napo- 
leon in  his  despair  heads  the  rest,  and  flings  himself  three 
times  on  the  enemy's  guns  without  finding  the  death  he  sought; 
we  all  saw  him  do  it,  we  soldiers,  and  the  day  was  lost  !  That 
night  the  Emperor  calls  all  his  old  soldiers  about  him,  and  there 
on  the  battlefield,  which  was  soaked  with  our  blood,  he  burns  his 
flags  and  his  eagles — the  poor  eagles  that  had  never  been  de- 
feated, that  had  cried  *  forward  !  '  in  battle  after  battle,  and 
had  flown  above  us  all  over  Europe.  That  was  the  end  of  the 
eagles — all  the  wealth  of  England  could  not  purchase  for  her 
one  tail-feather.     The  rest  is  sufficiently  known. 

"  The  '  Red  Man '  went  over  to  the  Bourbons  like  the  low 
scoundrel  he  is.  France  is  prostrate,  the  soldier  counts  for 
nothing,  they  rob  him  of  his  due,  send  him  about  his  busi- 
ness, and  fill  his  place  with  nobles  who  could  not  walk,  they 
were  so  old,  so  that  it  made  you  sorry  to  see  them.  They 
seize  Napoleon  by  treachery,  the  English  shut  him  up  on  a 
desert  island  in  the  ocean,  on  a  rock  ten  thousand  feet  above 
the  rest  of  the  world.  That  is  the  final  end  of  it ;  there  he 
has  to  stop  till  the  '  Red  Man  '  gives  him  back  his  power 
again,  for  the  happiness  of  France.  A  lot  of  them  say  that 
he  is  dead  !  Dead  ?  Oh  !  yes,  very  likely.  They  do  not 
know  him,  that  is  plain  !  They  go  on  telling  that  fib  to 
deceive  the  people,  and  to  keep  things  quiet  for  their  tumble- 
down government.  Listen  ;  this  is  the  whole  truth  of  the 
matter.  His  friends  have  left  him  alone  in  the  desert  to  fulfil 
a  prophecy  that  was  made  about  him,  for  I  forgot  to  tell  you 
that  his  name  Napoleon  means  the  Lion  of  the  Desert.  And 
that  is  gospel  truth.  You  will  hear  plenty  of  other  things 
said   about   the   Emperor,  but   they  are   all  monstrous   non- 


THE  NAPOLEON  OF   THE   PEOPLE.  197 

sense.  Because,  look  you,  to  no  man  of  woman  born 
would  God  have  given  the  power  to  write  his  name  in  red,  as 
he  did,  across  the  earth,  where  he  will  be  remembered  for 

ever  ! Long  live  '  Napoleon,  the  father  of  the  soldier,  the 

father  of  the  people  !  '  " 

"  Long  live  General  Eble  !  "  cried  the  pontooneer. 

"  How  did  you  manage  not  to  die  in  the  gorge  of  the 
redoubts  at  Borodino?  "  asked  a  peasant  woman. 

"  Do  I  know?  We  were  a  whole  regiment  when  we  went 
down  into  it,  and  only  a  hundred  foot  were  left  standing  ; 
only  infantry  could  have  carried  it ;  for  the  infantry,  look 
you,  is  everything  in  an  army " 

*' But  how  about  the  cavalry?"  cried  Genestas,  slipping 
down  out  of  the  hay  in  a  sudden  fashion  that  drew  a  startled 
cry  from  the  boldest. 

"  He,  old  boy  !  you  are  forgetting  Poniatowski's  Red  Lan- 
cers, the  Cuirassiers,  the  Dragoons,  and  the  whole  boiling. 
Whenever  Napoleon  grew  tired  of  seeing  his  battalions  gain 
no  ground  towards  the  end  of  a  victory,  he  would  say  to 
Murat,  •'  Here,  you  !  cut  them  in  two  for  me  !  '  and  we  set 
out  first  at  a  trot,  and  then  at  a  gallop,  one,  two .'  and  cut  a 
way  clean  through  the  ranks  of  the  enemy ;  it  was  like  slicing 
an  apple  in  two  with  a  knife.  Why,  a  charge  of  cavalry  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  column  of  cannon-balls." 

"  And  how  about  the  pontooneers  ?  "  cried  the  deaf  veteran. 

"  There,  there  !  my  children,"  Genestas  went  on,  repenting 
in  his  confusion  of  the  sally  he  had  made,  when  he  found 
himself  in  the  middle  of  a  silent  and  bewildered  group, 
"  there  are  no  agents  of  police  spying  here  !  Here,  drink  to 
the  Little  Corporal  with  this?" 

♦*  Long  live  the  Emperor  !  "  all  cried  with  one  voice. 

"Hush!  children,"  said  the  officer,  concealing  his  own 
deep  sorrow  with  an  effort.  "  Hush  !  He  is  dead.  He  died 
saying,  •  Glory,  France,  and  battle'  So  it  had  to  be,  children, 
he  must  die  ;  but  his  memory — never  !  " 


198  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

Goguelat  made  an  incredulous  gesture ;  then  he  whispered 
to  those  about  him,  "The  officer  is  still  in  the  service,  and 
orders  have  been  issued  that  they  are  to  tell  the  people  that 
the  Emperor  is  dead.  You  must  not  think  any  harm  of  him, 
because,  after  all,  a  soldier  must  obey  orders." 

As  Genestas  went  out  of  the  barn,  he  heard  La  Fosseuse 
say,  "  That  officer,  you  know,  is  M.  Benassis'  friend,  and  a 
friend  of  the  Emperor." 

Every  soul  in  the  barn  rushed  to  the  door  to  see  the  com- 
mandant again  ;  they  saw  him  in  the  moonlight,  as  he  took 
the  doctor's  arm. 

**  It  was  a  stupid  thing  to  do,"  said  Genestas.  "  Quick  ! 
let  us  go  into  the  house.  Those  eagles,  cannon,  and  cam- 
paigns !^ 1  had  quite  forgotten  where  I  was." 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  our  Goguelat?"  asked 
Benassis. 

*'  So  long  as  such  stories  are  told  in  France,  sir,  she  will 
always  find  the  fourteen  armies  of  the  Republic  within  her,  at 
need ;  and  her  cannon  will  be  perfectly  able  to  keep  up  a 
conversation  with  the  rest  of  Europe.     That  is  what  I  think  " 

A  few  moments  later  they  reached  Benassis'  dwelling,  and 
soon  were  sitting  on  either  side  of  the  hearth  in  the  salon  ; 
the  dying  fire  in  the  grate  still  sent  up  a  few  sparks  now  and 
then.  Each  was  absorbed  in  thought.  Genestas  was  hesi- 
tating to  ask  one  last  question.  In  spite  of  the  marks  of 
confidence  that  he  had  received,  he  feared  lest  the  doctor 
should  regard  his  inquiry  as  indiscreet.  He  looked  search- 
ingly  at  Benassis  more  than  once ;  and  an  answering  smile, 
full  of  a  kindly  cordiality,  such  as  lights  up  the  faces  of  men 
of  real  strength  of  character,  seemed  to  give  him  in  advance 
the  favorable  reply  for  which  he  sought.     So  he  spoke — 

"  Your  life,  sir,  is  so  different  from  the  lives  of  ordinary 
men,  that  you  will  not  be  surprised  to  hear  me  ask  you  the 
reason  of  your  retired  existence.  My  curiosity  may  seem  to 
you  to  be  unmannerly,  but  you  will  admit  that  it  is  very 


THE   NAPOLEON  OF   THE    PEOPLE.  199 

natural.  Listen  a  moment :  I  have  had  comrades  with  whom 
I  have  never  been  on  intimate  terms,  even  though  I  have 
made  many  campaigns  with  them ;  but  there  have  been  others 
to  whom  I  would  say,  '  Go  to  the  paymaster  and  draw  our 
money,'  three  days  after  we  had  got  drunk  together,  a  thing 
that  will  happen,  for  the  quietest  folk  must  have  a  frolic  fit  at 
times.  Well,  then,  you  are  one  of  those  people  whom  I  take 
for  a  friend  without  waiting  to  ask  leave,  nay,  without  so 
much  as  knowing  wherefore." 

"  Captain  Bluteau " 

Whenever  the  doctor  had  called  his  guest  by  his  assumed 
name,  the  latter  had  been  unable  for  some  time  past  to  sup- 
press a  slight  grimace.  Benassis,  happening  to  look  up  just 
then,  caught  this  expression  of  repugnance ;  he  sought  to  dis- 
cover the  reason  of  it,  and  looked  full  into  the  soldier's  face, 
but  the  real  enigma  was  wellnigh  insoluble  for  him,  so  he  set 
down  these  symptoms  to  physical  suffering,  and  went  on — 

"  Captain,  I  am  about  to  speak  of  myself.  I  have  had  to 
force  myself  to  do  so  already  several  times  since  yesterday, 
while  telling  you  about  the  improvements  that  I  have  managed 
to  introduce  here  ;  but  it  was  a  question  of  the  interests  of 
the  people  and  the  commune,  with  which  mine  are  necessarily 
bound  up.  But,  now,  if  I  tell  you  my  story,  I  should  have  to 
speak  wholly  of  myself,  and  mine  has  not  been  a  very 
interesting  life." 

"  If  it  were  as  uneventful  as  La  Fosseuse's  life,"  answered 
Genestas,  *'  I  should  still  be  glad  to  know  about  it ;  I  should 
like  to  know  the  untoward  events  that  could  bring  a  man  of 
your  calibre  into  this  canton." 

'*  Captain,  for  these  twelve  years  I  have  lived  in  silence  ; 
and  now,  as  I  wait  at  the  brink  of  the  grave  for  the  stroke 
that  shall  cast  me  into  it,  I  will  candidly  own  to  you  that  this 
silence  is  beginning  to  weigh  heavily  upon  me.  I  have  borne 
my  sorrows  alone  for  twelve  years ;  I  have  had  none  of  the 
comfort  that  friendship  gives  in  such  full  measure  to  a  heart  in 


200  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

pain.  My  poor  sick  folk  and  my  peasants  certainly  set  me  an 
example  of  unmurmuring  resignation ;  but  they  know  that  I 
at  least  understand  them  and  their  troubles,  while  there  is  not 
a  soul  here  who  knows  of  the  tears  that  I  have  shed,  no  one  to 
give  me  the  hand-clasp  of  a  comrade,  the  noblest  reward  of 
all,  a  reward  that  falls  to  the  lot  of  every  other,  even  Gondrin 
has  not  missed  that." 

Genestas  held  out  his  hand,  a  sudden  impulsive  movement 
by  which  Benassis  was  deeply  touched. 

"  There  is  La  Fosseuse,"  he  went  on  in  a  different  voice; 
"she  perhaps  would  have  understood  as  the  angels  might; 
but  then,  too,  she  might  possibly  have  loved  me,  and  that 
would  have  been  a  misfortune.  Listen,  captain,  my  confes- 
sion could  only  be  made  to  an  old  soldier  who  looks  as 
leniently  as  you  do  on  the  failings  of  others,  or  to  some 
young  man  who  has  not  lost  the  illusions  of  youth ;  for  only 
a  man  who  knows  life  well,  or  a  lad  to  whom  it  is  all  unknown, 
could  understand  my  story.  The  captains  of  past  times  who 
fell  upon  the  field  of  battle  used  to  make  their  last  confession 
to  the  cross  on  the  hilt  of  their  sword ;  if  there  was  no  priest 
at  hand,  it  was  the  sword  that  received  and  kept  the  last  con- 
fidences between  a  human  soul  and  God.  And  will  you  hear 
and  understand  me,  for  you  are  one  of  Napoleon's  finest 
sword-blades,  as  thoroughly  tempered  and  as  strong  as  steel  ? 
Some  parts  of  my  story  can  only  be  understood  by  a  delicate 
tenderness,  and  through  a  sympathy  with  the  beliefs  that  dwell 
in  simple  hearts ;  beliefs  which  would  seem  absurd  to  the 
sophisticated  people  who  made  use  in  their  own  lives  of  the 
prudential  maxims  of  worldly  wisdom  that  only  apply  to  the 
government  of  states.  To  you  I  shall  speak  openly  and  with- 
out reserve,  as  a  man  who  does  not  seek  to  apologize  for  his 
life  with  the  good  and  evil  done  in  the  course  of  it ;  as  one 
who  will  hide  nothing  from  you,  because  he  lives  so  far  from 
the  world  of  to-day,  careless  of  the  judgments  of  man,  and 
full  of  hope  in  God." 


THE   NAPOLEON   OF   THE   PEOPLE. 


201 


Benassis  stopped,  rose  to  his  feet,  and  said,  "  Before  I  begin 
my  story,  I  will  order  tea.  Jacquotte  has  never  missed  asking 
me  if  I  will  take  it  for  these  twelve  years  past,  and  she  will 
certainly  interrupt  us.     Do  you  care  about  it,  captain?  " 

**  No,  thank  you." 

In  another  moment  Benassis  returned. 


IV. 

.  THE  COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S  CONFESSION. 

"I  WAS  born  in  a  little  town  in  Languedoc,"  the  doctor 
resumed.  "  My  father  had  been  settled  there  for  many  years, 
and  there  my  early  childhood  was  spent.  When  I  was  eight 
years  old  I  was  sent  to  the  school  of  the  Oratorians  at  Sorreze, 
and  only  left  it  to  finish  my  studies  in  Paris.  My  father  had 
squandered  his  patrimony  in  the  course  of  an  exceedingly 
wild  and  extravagant  youth.  He  had  retrieved  his  position 
partly  by  a  fortunate  marriage,  partly  by  the  slow  persistent 
thrift  characteristic  of  provincial  life ;  for  in  the  provinces 
people  pride  themselves  on  accumulating  rather  than  on  spend- 
ing, and  all  the  ambition  in  a  man's  nature  is  either  extin- 
guished or  directed  to  money-getting,  for  want  of  any  nobler 
end.  So  he  had  grown  rich  at  last,  and  thought  to  transmit 
to  his  only  son  all  the  cut-and-dried  experience  which  he  him- 
self had  purchased  at  the  price  of  his  lost  illusions ;  a  noble 
last  illusion  of  age  which  fondly  seeks  to  bequeath  its  virtues 
and  its  wary  prudence  to  heedless  youth,  intent  only  on  the 
enjoyment  of  the  enchanted  life  that  lies  before  it. 

"  This  foresight  on  my  father's  part  led  him  to  make  plans 
for  my  education  for  which  I  had  to  suffer.  He  sedulously 
concealed  my  expectations  of  wealth  from  me,  and  during  the 
fairest  years  of  my  youth  compelled  me,  for  ray  own  good,  to 
endure  the  burden  of  anxiety  and  hardship  that  presses  upon 
a  young  man  who  has  his  own  way  to  make  in  the  world.  His 
idea  in  so  doing  was  to  instil  the  virtues  of  poverty  into  me — 
patience,  a  thirst  for  learning,  and  a  love  of  work  for  its  own 
sake.  He  hoped  to  teach  me  to  set  a  proper  value  on  my 
inheritance,  by  letting  me  learn,  in  this  way,  all  that  it  costs 
to  make  a  fortune ;  wherefore,  as  soon  as  I  was  old  enough  to 
(202) 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  203 

understand  his  advice,  he  urged  me  to  choose  a  profession  and 
to  work  steadily  at  it.  My  tastes  inclined  nie  to  the  study  of 
medicine. 

"  So  I  left  Sorreze,  after  ten  years  of  the  almost  monastic 
discipline  of  the  Oratorians;  and,  fresh  from  the  quiet  life  of 
a  remote  provincial  school,  I  was  taken  straight  to  the  capital. 
My  father  went  with  me  in  order  to  introduce  me  to  the 
notice  of  a  friend  of  his ;  and  (all  unknown  to  me)  my  two 
elders  took  the  most  elaborate  precautions  against  any  ebulli- 
tions of  youth  on  my  part,  innocent  lad  though  I  was.  My 
allowance  was  rigidly  computed  on  a  scale  based  upon  the 
absolute  necessaries  of  life,  and  I  was  obliged  to  produce  my 
certificate  of  attendance  at  the  Ecole  de  Medecine  before  I 
was  allowed  to  draw  my  quarter's  income.  The  excuse  for 
this  sufficiently  humiliating  distrust  was  the  necessity  of  my 
acquiring  methodical  and  business-like  habits.  My  father, 
however,  was  not  sparing  of  money  for  all  the  necessary  ex- 
penses of  my  education  and  for  the  amusements  of  Parisian 
life. 

"  His  old  friend  was  delighted  to  have  a  young  man  to 
guide  through  the  labyrinth  into  which  I  had  entered.  He 
was  one  of  those  men  whose  natures  lead  them  to  docket  their 
thoughts,  feelings,  and  opinions  every  whit  as  carefully  as 
their  papers.  He  would  turn  up  last  year's  memorandum 
book,  and  could  tell  in  a  moment  what  he  had  been  doing  a 
twelvemonth  since  in  this  very  month,  day,  and  hour  of  the 
present  year.  Life,  for  him,  was  a  business  enterprise,  and  he 
kept  the  books  after  the  most  approved  business  methods. 
There  was  real  worth  in  him  though  he  might  be  punctilious, 
shrewd,  and  suspicious,  and  though  he  never  lacked  specious 
excuses  for  the  precautionary  measures  that  he  took  with  re- 
gard to  me.  He  used  to  buy  all  my  books ;  he  paid  for  my 
lessons ;  and  once,  when  the  fancy  took  me  to  learn  to  ride, 
the  good  soul  himself  found  me  out  a  riding-school,  went 
thither  with  me,  and  anticipated  my  wishes  by  putting  a  horse 


204  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

at  my  disposal  whenever  I  had  a  holiday.  In  spite  of  all  this 
cautious  strategy,  which  I  managed  to  defeat  as  soon  as  I  had 
any  temptation  to  do  so,  the  kind  old  man  was  a  second 
father  to  me. 

"  '  My  friend,'  he  said,  as  soon  as  he  surmised  that  I  should 
break  away  altogether  from  my  leading-strings,  unless  he  re- 
laxed them,  'young  folk  are  apt  to  commit  follies  which  draw 
down  the  wrath  of  their  elders  upon  their  heads,  and  you  may 
happen  to  want  money  at  some  time  or  other ;  if  so,  come  to 
me.  Your  father  helped  me  nobly  once  upon  a  time,  and  I 
shall  always  have  a  few  crowns  to  spare  for  you ;  but  never  tell 
me  any  lies,  and  do  not  be  ashamed  to  own  to  your  faults.  I 
myself  was  young  once  ;  we  shall  always  get  on  well  together, 
like  two  good  comrades.' 

"  My  father  found  lodgings  for  me  with  some  quiet,  middle- 
class  people  in  the  Latin  Quarter,  and  my  room  was  furnished 
nicely  enough  ;  but  this  first  taste  of  independence,  my  father's 
kindness,  and  the  self-denial  which  he  seemed  to  be  exercis- 
ing for  me,  brought  me  but  little  happiness.  Perhaps  the 
value  of  liberty  cannot  be  known  until  it  has  been  experi- 
enced ;  and  the  memories  of  the  freedom  of  my  childhood 
had  been  almost  effaced  by  the  irksome  and  dreary  life  at 
school,  from  which  my  spirits  had  scarcely  recovered.  In 
addition  to  this,  my  father  had  urged  new  tasks  upon  me,  so 
that  altogether  Paris  was  an  enigma.  You  must  acquire  some 
knowledge  of  its  pleasures  before  you  can  amuse  yourself  in 
Paris. 

"My  real  position,  therefore,  was  quite  unchanged,  save 
that  my  new  school  was  a  much  larger  building,  and  was  called 
the  Ecole  de  Medecine.  Nevertheless,  I  studied  away  bravely 
at  first ;  I  attended  lectures  diligently ;  I  worked  desperately 
hard  and  without  relaxation,  so  strongly  was  my  imagination 
affected  by  the  abundant  treasures  of  knowledge  to  be  gained 
in  the  capital.  But  very  soon  I  heedlessly  made  acquaint- 
ances; danger  lurks  hidden  beneath  the  rash  confiding  friend- 


THE    COU.\TR\    DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  205 

ships  that  have  so  strong  a  charm  for  youth,  and  gradually  I 
was  drawn  into  the  dissipated  life  of  the  capital.  I  became 
an  enthusiastic  lover  of  the  theatre  ;  and  with  my  craze  for 
actors  and  the  play,  the  work  of  my  demoralization  began. 
The  stage,  in  a  great  metropolis,  exerts  a  very  deadly  influ- 
ence over  the  young ;  they  never  quit  the  theatre  save  in  a 
state  of  emotional  excitement  almost  always  beyond  their 
power  to  control ;  society  and  the  law  seem  to  me  to  be  ac- 
cessories to  the  irregularities  brought  about  in  this  way.  Our 
legislation  has  shut  its  eyes,  so  to  speak,  to  the  passions  that 
>tQanient  a  young  man  between  twenty  and  five-and-twenty 
years  of  age.  In  Paris  he  is  assailed  by  temptations  of  every 
kind.  Religion  may  preach  and  law  may  demand  that  he 
should  walk  uprightly,  but  all  his  surroundings  and  the  tone 
of  those  about  him  are  so  many  incitements  to  evil.  Do  not 
the  best  of  men  and  the  most  devout  women  there  look  upon 
continence  as  ridiculous?  The  great  city,  in  fact,  seems  to 
have  set  herself  to  give  encouragement  to  vice  and  to  this 
alone ;  for  a  young  man  finds  that  the  entrace  to  every  hon- 
orable career  in  which  he  might  look  for  success  is  barred  by 
hindrances  even  more  numerous  than  the  snares  that  are  con- 
tinually set  for  him,  so  that  through  his  weaknesses  he  may  be 
robbed  of  his  money. 

"For  a  long  while  I  went  every  evening  to  some  theatre, 
and  little  by  little  I  fell  into  idle  ways.  I  grew  more  and 
more  slack  over  my  work ;  even  my  most  pressing  tasks  were 
apt  to  be  put  off  till  the  morrow,  and  before  very  long  there 
was  an  end  of  my  search  after  knowledge  for  its  own  sake ;  I 
did  nothing  more  than  the  work  which  was  absolutely  required 
to  enable  me  to  get  through  the  examinations  that  must  be 
passed  before  I  could  become  a  doctor.  I  attended  the  pub- 
lic lectures,  but  I  no  longer  paid  any  attention  to  the  pro- 
fessors, who,  in  my  opinion,  were  a  set  of  dotards.  I  had 
already  broken  my  idols — I  became  a  Parisian. 

"To  be  brief,  I  led   the  aimless  drifting  life  of  a  young 


206  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

provincial  thrown  into  the  heart  of  a  great  city ;  still  retain- 
ing some  good  and  true  feeling,  still  clinging  more  or  less  to 
the  observance  of  certain  rules  of  conduct,  still  fighting  in 
vain  against  the  debasing  influence  of  evil  examples,  though 
I  offered  a  feeble,  half-hearted  resistance,  for  the  enemy  had 
accomplices  within  me.  Yes,  sir,  my  face  is  not  misleading ; 
past  storms  have  plainly  left  their  traces  there.  Yet,  since  I 
had  drunk  so  deeply  of  the  pure  fountain  of  religion  in  my 
early  youth,  I  was  haunted  in  the  depths  of  my  soul,  through 
all  my  wanderings,  by  an  ideal  of  moral  perfection  which 
could  not  fail  one  day  to  bring  me  back  to  God  by  the  paths 
of  weariness  and  remorse.  Is  not  he  who  feels  the  pleasures 
of  earth  most  keenly  sure  to  be  attracted,  soon  or  late,  by  the 
fruits  of  heaven  ? 

*'  At  first  I  went  through  the  experience,  more  or  less  vivid, 
that  always  comes  with  youth — the  countless  moments  of  ex- 
ultation, the  unnumbered  transports  of  despair.  Sometimes 
I  took  my  vehement  energy  of  feeling  for  resolute  will,  and 
overestimated  my  powers ;  sometimes  at  the  mere  sight  of 
some  trifling  obstacle  with  which  I  was  about  to  come  into 
collision,  I  was  far  more  cast  down  than  I  ought  to  have  been. 
Then  I  would  devise  vast  plans,  would  dream  of  glory,  and 
betake  myself  to  work ;  but  a  pleasure  party  would  divert 
me  from  the  noble  projects  based  on  so  infirm  a  purpose. 
Vague  recollections  of  these  great  abortive  schemes  of  mine 
left  a  deceptive  glow  in  my  soul  and  fostered  my  belief  in 
myself,  without  giving  me  the  energy  to  produce.  In  my 
indolent  self-sufficiency  I  was  in  a  very  fair  way  to  become  a 
fool,  for  what  is  a  fool  but  a  man  who  fails  to  justify  the 
excellent  opinion  which  he  has  formed  of  himself?  My 
energy  was  directed  towards  no  definite  aims;  I  wished  for 
the  flowers  of  life  without  the  toil  of  cultivating  them.  I 
had  no  idea  of  the  obstacles,  so  I  imagined  that  everything 
was  easy  ;  luck,  I  thought,  accounted  for  success  in  science 
and  in  business,  and  genius  was  charlatanism.     I  took  it  for 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S  CONFESSION.  207 

granted  that  I  should  be  a  great  man,  because  there  was  the 
power  of  becoming  one  within  me;  so  I  discounted  all  my 
future  glory,  without  giving  a  thought  to  the  patience  re- 
quired for  the  conception  of  a  great  work,  nor  of  the  execu- 
tion, in  the  course  of  which  all  the  difficulties  of  the  task 
appear. 

"The  sources  of  my  amusements  were  soon  exhausted. 
The  charm  of  the  theatre  does  not  last  very  long ;  and,  for  a 
poor  student,  Paris  shortly  became  an  empty  wilderness. 
They  were  dull  and  uninteresting  people  that  I  met  with  in 
^the  circle  of  the  family  with  whom  I  lived;  but  these,  and  an 
old  man  who  had  now  lost  touch  with  the  world,  were  all  the 
society  that  I  had. 

"  So,  like  every  young  man  who  takes  a  dislike  to  the  career 
marked  out  for  him,  I  rambled  about  the  streets  for  whole  days 
together ;  I  strolled  along  the  quays,  through  the  museums 
and  public  gardens,  making  no  attempt  to  arrive  at  a  clear 
understanding  of  my  position,  and  without  a  single  definite 
idea  in  my  head.  The  burden  of  unemployed  energies  is  felt 
more  at  that  age  than  at  any  other ;  there  is  such  an  abun- 
dance of  vitality  running  to  waste,  so  much  activity  without 
result.  I  had  no  idea  of  the  power  that  a  resolute  will  puts 
into  the  hands  of  a  man  in  his  youth ;  for  when  he  has  ideas 
and  puts  his  whole  heart  and  soul  into  the  work  of  carrying 
them  out,  his  strength  is  yet  further  increased  by  the  undaunted 
courage  of  youthful  convictions. 

"Childhood  in  its  simplicity  knows  nothing  of  the  perils 
of  life ;  youth  sees  both  its  vastness  and  its  difficulties,  and  at 
the  prospect  the  courage  of  youth  sometimes  flags.  We  are 
still  serving  our  apprenticeship  to  life;  we  are  new  to  the 
business,  a  kind  of  faintheartedness  overpowers  us,  and  leaves 
us  in  an  almost  dazed  condition  of  mind.  We  feel  that  we  are 
helpless  aliens  in  a  strange  country.  At  all  ages  we  shrink 
back  involuntarily  from  the  unknown.  And  a  young  man  is 
very  much  like  the  soldier  who  will  walk  up  to  the  cannon's 


208  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

mouth,  and  is  put  to  flight  by  a  ghost.  He  hesitates  among 
the  maxims  of  the  world.  The  rules  of  attack  and  of  self- 
defence  are  alike  unknown  to  him  j  he  can  neither  give  nor 
take ;  he  is  attracted  by  women,  and  stands  in  awe  of  them  ; 
his  very  good  qualities  tell  against  him,  he  is  all  gener- 
osity and  modesty,  and  completely  innocent  of  mercenary 
designs.  Pleasure  and  not  interest  is  his  object  when  he  tells 
a  lie ;  and  among  many  dubious  courses,  the  conscience,  with 
which  as  yet  he  has  not  juggled,  points  out  to  him  the  right 
way,  which  he  is  slow  to  take. 

"  There  are  men  whose  lives  are  destined  to  be  shaped  by 
the  impulses  of  their  hearts,  rather  than  by  any  reasoning 
process  that  takes  place  in  their  heads,  and  such  natures  as 
these  will  remain  for  a  long  while  in  the  position  that  I  have 
described.  This  was  my  own  case.  I  became  the  plaything 
of  two  contending  impulses  ;  the  desires  of  youth  were  always 
held  in  check  by  a  fainthearted  sentimentality.  Life  in  Paris 
is  a  cruel  ordeal  for  impressionable  natures,  the  great  inequal- 
ities of  fortune  or  of  position  inflame  their  souls  and  stir  up 
bitter  feelings.  In  that  world  of  magnificence  and  pettiness 
envy  is  more  apt  to  be  a  dagger  than  a  spur.  You  are  bound 
either  to  fall  a  victim  or  to  become  a  partisan  in  this  incessant 
strife  of  ambitions,  desires,  and  hatreds,  in  the  midst  of  which 
you  are  placed ;  and  by  slow  degrees  the  picture  of  vice 
triumphant  and  virtue  made  ridiculous  produces  its  effect  on  a 
young  man,  and  he  wavers ;  life  in  Paris  soon  rubs  the  bloom 
from  conscience,  the  infernal  work  of  demoralization  has 
begun,  and  is  soon  accomplished.  The  first  of  pleasures,  that 
which  at  the  outset  comprehends  all  the  others,  is  set  about 
with  such  perils  that  it  is  impossible  not  to  reflect  upon  the 
least  actions  which  it  provokes,  impossible  not  to  calculate  all 
its  consequences.  These  calculations  lead  to  selfishness.  If 
some  poor  student,  carried  away  by  an  impassioned  enthu- 
siasm, is  fain  to  rise  above  selfish  considerations,  the  suspicious 
attitude  of  those  about  him  makes  him  pause  and  doubt ;  it  is 


THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  209 

SO  hard  not  to  share  their  mistrust,  so  difficult  not  to  be  on  his 
guard  against  his  own  generous  thoughts.  His  heart  is  seared 
and  contracted  by  this  struggle,  the  current  of  life  sets  toward 
the  brain,  and  the  callousness  of  the  Parisian  is  the  result — 
the  condition  of  things  in  which  schemes  for  power  and  wealth 
are  concealed  by  the  most  charming  frivolity,  and  lurk  be- 
neath the  sentimental  transports  that  take  the  place  of  enthu- 
siasm. The  simplest-natured  woman  in  Paris  always  keeps  a 
clear  head  even  in  the  intoxication  of  happiness. 

"This  atmosphere  was  bound  to  affect  my  opinions  and 
my  conduct.  The  errors  that  have  poisoned  my  life  would 
Tiave  lain  lightly  on  many  a  conscience,  but  we  in  the  south 
have  a  religious  faith  that  leads  us  to  believe  in  a  future  life, 
and  in  the  truths  set  forth  by  the  Catholic  Church.  These 
beliefs  give  depth  and  gravity  to  every  feeling,  and  to  remorse 
a  terrible  and  lasting  power. 

"The  army  were  the  masters  of  society  at  the  time  when 
I  was  studying  medicine.  In  order  to  shine  in  women's  eyes, 
one  had  to  be  a  colonel  at  the  very  least.  A  poor  student 
counted  for  absolutely  nothing.  Goaded  by  the  strength  of 
my  desires,  and  finding  no  outlet  for  them ;  hampered  at 
every  step  and  in  every  wish  by  the  want  of  money  ;  looking 
on  study  and  fame  as  too  slow  a  means  of  arriving  at  the 
pleasures  that  tempted  me  ;  drawn  one  way  by  my  inward 
scruples,  and  another  by  evil  examples  ;  meeting  with  every 
facility  for  low  dissipation,  and  finding  nothing  but  hindrances 
barring  the  way  to  good  society,  I  passed  my  days  in  wretch- 
edness, overwhelmed  by  a  surging  tumult  of  desires,  and  by 
indolence  of  the  most  deadly  kind,  utterly  cast  down  at  times, 
only  to  be  as  suddenly  elated. 

"  The  catastrophe  which  at  length  put  an  end  to  this  crisis 
was  commonplace  enough.  The  thought  of  troubling  the 
peace  of  a  household  has  always  been  repugnant  to  me  ;  and 
not  only  so,  I  could  not  dissemble  my  feelings,  the  instinct 
of  sincerity  was  too  strong  in  me ;  I  should  have  found  it  a 
14 


210  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

physical  impossibility  to  lead  a  life  of  glaring  falsity.  There 
is  for  me  but  little  attraction  in  pleasures  that  must  be  snatched. 
I  wish  for  full  consciousness  of  my  happiness.  I  led  a  life  of 
solitude,  for  which  there  seemed  to  be  no  remedy ;  for  I  shrank 
from  openly  vicious  courses,  and  the  many  efforts  that  I  made 
to  enter  society  were  all  in  vain.  There  I  might  have  met 
with  some  woman  who  would  have  undertaken  the  task  of 
teaching  me  the  perils  of  every  path,  who  would  have  formed 
my  manners,  counseled  me  without  wounding  my  vanity,  and 
introduced  me  everywhere  where  I  was  likely  to  make  friends 
who  would  be  useful  to  me  in  my  future  career.  In  my  de- 
spair, an  intrigue  of  the  most  dangerous  kind  would  perhaps 
have  had  its  attractions  for  me ;  but  even  peril  was  out  of  my 
reach.  My  inexperience  sent  me  back  again  to  my  solitude, 
where  I  dwelt  face  to  face  with  my  thwarted  desires. 

"At  last  I  formed  a  connection,  at  first  a  secret  one,  with 
a  girl,  whom  I  persuaded,  half  against  her  will,  to  share  my 
life.  Her  people  were  worthy  folk,  who  had  bnt  small  means. 
It  was  not  very  long  before  she  left  her  simple  sheltered  life, 
and  fearlessly  intrusted  me  with  a  future  that  virtue  would 
have  made  happy  and  fair  ;  thinking,  no  doubt,  that  my  nar- 
row income  was  the  surest  guarantee  of  my  faithfulness  to  her. 
From  that  moment  the  tempest  that  had  raged  within  me 
ceased,  and  happiness  lulled  my  v.-ild  desires  and  ambitions  to 
sleep.  Such  happiness  is  only  possible  for  a  young  man  who 
is  ignorant  of  the  world,  who  knows  nothing  as  yet  of  its 
accepted  codes  nor  of  the  strength  of  prejudice ;  but  while  it 
lasts,  his  happiness  is  as  all-absorbing  as  a  child's.  Is  not 
first  love  like  a  return  of  childhood  across  the  intervening 
years  of  anxiety  and  toil  ? 

"There  are  men  who  learn  life  at  a  glance,  who  see  it  for 
what  it  is  at  once,  who  learn  experience  from  the  mistakes  of 
others,  who  apply  the  current  maxims  of  worldly  wisdom  to 
their  own  case  with  signal  success,  and  make  unerring  fore- 
casts at  all  times.     Wise  in  their  generation  are  such  cool 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  211 

heads  as  these  !  But  there  is  also  a  luckless  race  endowed 
with  the  impressionable,  keenly-sensitive  temperament  of  the 
poet ;  these  are  the  natures  that  fall  into  error,  and  to  this 
latter  class  I  belonged.  There  was  no  great  depth  in  the  feel- 
ing that  first  drew  me  towards  this  poor  girl ;  I  followed  my 
instinct  rather  than  my  lieart  when  I  sacrificed  her  to  myself, 
and  I  found  no  lack  of  excellent  reasons  wherewith  to  per- 
suade myself  that  there  was  no  harm  whatever  in  what  I  had 
done.  And  as  for  her — she  was  devotion  itself,  a  noble  soul 
with  a  clear,  keen  intelligence  and  a  heart  of  gold.  She 
never  counseled  me  other  than  wisely.  Her  love  put  fresh 
heart  into  me  from  the  first ;  she  foretold  a  splendid  future  of 
success  and  fortune  for  me,  and  gently  constrained  me  to  take 
up  my  studies  again  by  her  belief  in  me.  In  these  days  there 
is  scarcely  a  branch  of  science  that  has  no  bearing  upon  medi- 
cine ;  it  is  a  diffii:nlt  task  to  achieve  distinction,  but  the 
reward  is  great,  for  in  Paris  fame  always  means  fortuneo  The 
unselfish  girl  devoted  herself  to  me,  shared  in  every  interest, 
even  the  slightest,  of  my  life,  and  managed  so  carefully  and 
wisely  that  we  lived  in  comfort  on  my  narrow  income.  I 
had  more  money  to  spare,  now  that  there  were  two  of  us,  than 
I  had  ever  had  while  I  lived  by  myself.  Those  were  my  hap- 
piest days.  I  worked  with  enthusiasm,  I  had  a  definite  aim 
before  me,  I  had  found  the  encouragement  I  needed.  Every- 
thing I  did  or  thought  I  carried  to  her,  who  had  not  only 
found  the  way  to  gain  my  love,  but  above  and  beyond  this 
had  filled  me  with  sincere  respect  for  her  by  the  modest  dis- 
cretion which  she  displayed  in  a  position  where  discretion  and 
modesty  seemed  wellnigh  impossible.  But  one  day  was  like 
another,  sir;  and  it  is  only  after  our  hearts  have  passed 
through  all  the  storms  appointed  for  us  that  we  know  the 
value  of  a  monotonous  happiness,  and  learn  that  life  holds 
nothing  more  sweet  for  us  than  this :  a  calm  happiness  in 
which  the  fatigue  of  existence  is  felt  no  longer,  and  the 
inmost  thoughts  of  either  find  response  in  the  other's  soul. 


212  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"  My  former  dreams  assailed  me  again.  They  were  my  own 
vehement  longings  for  the  pleasures  of  wealth  that  awoke, 
though  it  was  in  love's  name  that  I  now  asked  for  them.  In 
the  evenings  I  grew  abstracted  and  moody,  rapt  in  imaginings 
of  the  pleasures  I  could  enjoy  if  I  were  rich,  and  thought- 
lessly gave  expression  to  my  desires  in  answer  to  a  tender 
questioning  voice.  I  must  have  drawn  a  painful  sigh  from 
her  who  had  devoted  herself  to  my  happiness ;  for  she,  sweet 
soul,  felt  nothing  more  cruelly  than  the  thought  that  I  wished 
for  something  that  she  could  not  give  me  immediately.  Oh  ! 
sir,  a  woman's  devotion  is  sublime  !  " 

There  was  a  sharp  distress  in  the  doctor's  exclamation 
which  seemed  prompted  by  some  recollection  of  his  own  ;  he 
paused  for  a  brief  while,  and  Genestas  respected  his  musings. 

"Well,  sir,"  Benassis  resumed,  "something  happened 
which  should  have  concluded  the  marriage  thus  begun  ;  but 
instead  of  that  it  put  an  end  to  it,  and  was  the  cause  of  all 
my  misfortunes.  My  father  died  and  left  me  a  large  fortune. 
The  necessary  business  arrangements  demanded  my  presence 
in  Languedoc  for  several  months,  and  I  went  thither  alone. 
At  last  I  had  regained  my  freedom  !  Even  the  mildest  yoke 
is  galling  to  youth  ;  we  do  not  see  its  necessity  any  more  than 
we  see  the  need  to  work,  until  we  have  had  some  experience 
of  life.  I  came  and  went  without  giving  an  account  of  my 
actions  to  any  one  ;  there  was  no  need  to  do  so  now  unless  I 
wished,  and  I  relished  liberty  with  all  the  keen  capacity  for 
enjoyment  that  we  have  in  Languedoc.  I  did  not  absolutely 
forget  the  ties  that  bound  me ;  but  I  was  so  absorbed  in  other 
matters  of  interest  that  my  mind  was  distracted  from  them, 
and  little  by  little  the  recollection  of  them  faded  away. 
Letters  full  of  heartfelt  tenderness  reached  me ;  but  at  two- 
and-twenty  a  young  man  imagines  that  all  women  are  alike 
tender  ;  he  does  not  know  love  from  a  passing  infatuation  ; 
all  things  are  confused  in  the  sensations  of  pleasure  which 
seem  at  first  to  comprise  everything.     It  was  only  later,  when 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  213 

I  came  to  a  clearer  knowledge  of  men  and  of  things  as  they 
are,  that  I  could  estimate  those  noble  letters  at  their  just 
worth.  No  trace  of  selfishness  was  mingled  with  the  feeling 
expressed  in  them  ;  there  was  nothing  but  gladness  on  my 
account  for  my  change  of  fortune,  and  regret  on  her  own  ;  it 
never  occurred  to  her  that  I  could  change  towards  her,  for  she 
felt  that  she  herself  was  incapable  of  change.  But  even  then 
I  had  given  myself  up  to  ambitious  dreams  ;  I  thought  of 
drinking  deeply  of  all  the  delights  that  wealtli  could  give,  of 
becoming  a  person  of  consequence,  of  making  a  brilliant 
marriage.  So  I  read  the  letters,  and  contented  myself  with 
saying,  'She  is  very  fond  of  me,'  with  the  indifference  of  a 
coxcomb.  Even  then  I  was  perplexed  as  to  how  to  extricate 
myself  from  this  entanglement ;  I  was  ashamed  of  it,  and 
this  fact  as  well  as  my  perplexity  led  me  to  be  cruel.  We 
begin  by  wounding  the  victim,  and  then  we  kill  it,  that  the 
sight  of  our  cruelty  may  no  longer  put  us  to  the  blush.  Late 
reflections  upon  those  days  of  error  have  unveiled  for  me 
many  a  dark  depth  in  the  human  heart.  Yes,  believe  me, 
those  who  best  have  fathomed  the  good  and  evil  in  human 
nature  have  honestly  examined  themselves  in  the  first  instance. 
Conscience  is  the  starting-point  of  our  investigations;  we 
proceed  from  ourselves  to  others,  never  from  others  to  our- 
selves. 

"  When  I  returned  to  Paris  I  took  up  my  abode  in  a  large 
house  which,  in  pursuance  with  my  orders,  had  been  taken 
for  me,  and  the  one  person  interested  in  my  return  and  change 
of  address  was  not  informed  of  it.  I  wished  to  cut  a  figure 
among  young  men  of  fashion.  I  waited  a  few  days  to  taste 
the  first  delights  of  wealth;  and  when,  flushed  with  the 
excitement  of  my  new  position,  I  felt  that  I  could  trust  my- 
self to  do  so,  I  went  to  see  the  poor  girl  whom  I  meant  to 
cast  off.  With  a  woman's  quickness  she  saw  what  was  passing 
in  my  mind,  and  hid  her  tears  from  me.  She  could  not  but 
have  despised  me ;  but  it  was  her  nature  to  be  gentle  and 


214  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

kind,  and  she  never  showed  her  scorn.     Her  forbearance  was 
a  cruel  punishment.     An  unresisting  victim  is  not  a  pleasant 
thing  ;  whether  the  murder  is  done  decorously  in  the  drawing- 
room,  or  brutally  on  the  highway,  there  should  be  a  struggle 
to  give  some  plausible  excuse  for  taking  a  life.     1  renewed  my 
visits  very  affectionately  at  first,  making  efforts  to  be  gracious, 
if  not  tender ;  by  slow  degrees  I  became  politely  civil ;  and 
one  day,  by  a  sort  of  tacit  agreement  between  us,  she  allowed 
me  to  treat  her  as  a  stranger,  and  I  thought  that  I  had  done 
all  that  could  be  expected  of  me.     Nevertheless  I  abandoned 
myself  to  my  new  life  with  almost  frenzied  eagerness,  and 
sought  to  drown  in  gaiety  any  vague  lingering  remorse  that  I 
felt.     A  man  who  has  lost  his  self-respect  cannot  endure  his 
own  society,  so  I  led  the  dissipated  life  that  wealthy  young 
men    lead   in    Paris.     Owing  to  a  good  education   and   an 
excellent  memory,  I  seemed  cleverer  than  I  really  was,  forth- 
with I  looked  down  upon  other  people ;  and  those  who,  for 
their  own  purposes,  wished  to  prove  to  me  that  I  was  possessed 
of  extraordinary  abilities,  found  me  quite  convinced  on  that 
head.     Praise  is  the  most  insidious  of  all  methods  of  treachery 
known  to  the  world ;  and  this  is  nowhere  better  understood 
than  in  Paris,  where  intriguing  schemers  know  how  to  stifle 
every  kind  of  talent  at  its  birth  by  heaping  laurels  on  its 
cradle.     So  I  did  nothing  worthy  of  my  reputation  ;  I  reaped 
no  advantages  from  the  golden  opinions  entertained  of  me, 
and  made  no  acquaintances  likely  to  be  useful  in  my  future 
career.     I  wasted  my  energies  in  numberless  frivolous  pursuits, 
and  in  the  short-lived  love  intrigues  that  are  the  disgrace  of 
salons  in  Paris,  where  every  one  seeks  for  love,  grows  blase  in 
the  pursuit,  falls  into  the  libertinism  sanctioned  by  polite 
society,  and  ends  by  feeling  as  much  astonished  at  real  passion 
as  the  world  is  over  a  heroic  action.     I  did  as  others  did. 
Often  I  dealt  to  generous  and  candid  souls  the  deadly  wound 
from  which  I  myself  was  slowly  perishing.     Yet  though  de- 
ceptive appearances  might  lead  others  to  misjudge  me,  I  could 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  215 

never  overcome  my  scrupulous  delicacy.  Many  times  I  had 
been  duped,  and  should  have  blushed  for  myself  had  it  been 
otherwise ;  I  secretly  prided  myself  on  acting  in  good  faith, 
although  this  lowered  me  in  the  eyes  of  others.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  world  has  a  considerable  respect  for  cleverness, 
whatever  form  it  takes,  and  success  justifies  everything.  So 
the  world  was  pleased  to  attribute  to  me  all  the  good  qualities 
and  evil  propensities,  all  the  victories  and  defeats  which  had 
never  been  mine;  credited  me  with  conquest  of  which  I  knew 
nothing,  and  sat  in  judgment  upon  actions  of  which  I  had 
never  been  guilty.  I  scorned  to  contradict  the  slanders,  and 
self-love  led  me  to  regard  the  more  flattering  rumors  with  a 
certain  complacency.  Outwardly  my  existence  was  pleasant 
enough,  but  in  reality  I  was  miserable.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
the  tempest  of  misfortunes  that  very  soon  burst  over  my  head, 
all  good  impulses  must  have  perished,  and  evil  would  have 
triumphed  in  the  struggle  that  went  on  within  me;  enervating 
self-indulgence  would  have  destroyed  the  body,  as  the  detest- 
able habits  of  egotism  exhausted  the  springs  of  the  soul.  But 
I  was  ruined  financially.     This  was  how  it  came  about. 

**  No  matter  how  large  his  fortune  may  be,  a  man  is  sure  to 
find  some  one  else  in  Paris  possessed  of  yet  greater  wealth, 
whom  he  must  needs  aim  at  surpassing.  In  this  unequal  con- 
test I  was  vanquished  at  the  end  of  four  years  ]  and,  like  many 
another  harebrained  youngster,  I  was  obliged  to  sell  part  of 
my  property  and  to  mortgage  the  remainder  to  satisfy  my 
creditors.     Then  a  terrible  blow  suddenly  struck  me  down. 

"Two  years  had  passed  since  I  had  last  seen  the  woman 
whom  I  had  deserted.  The  turn  that  my  affairs  were  taking 
would  no  doubt  have  brought  me  back  to  her  once  more ;  but 
one  evening,  in  the  midst  of  a  gay  circle  of  acquaintances, 
I  received  a  note  written  in  a  trembling  hand.  It  only  con- 
tained these  few  words : 

*«  *  I  have  only  a  very  little  while  to  live,  and  I  should  like 
to  see  you,  my  friend,  so  that  I  may  know  what  will  become 


216  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

of  my  child — whether  henceforward  he  will  be  yours ;  and 
also  to  soften  the  regret  that  some  day  you  might  perhaps  feel 
for  my  death.' 

"  The  letter  made  me  shudder.  It  was  a  revelation  of 
secret  anguish  in  the  past,  while  it  contamed  a  whole  unknown 
future.  I  set  out  on  foot,  I  would  not  wait  for  my  carriage ; 
I  went  across  Paris,  goaded  by  remorse,  and  gnawed  by  a 
dreadful  fear  that  was  confirmed  by  the  first  sight  of  my  victim. 
In  the  extreme  neatness  and  cleanliness  beneath  which  she 
had  striven  to  hide  her  poverty  I  read  all  the  terrible  sufferings 
of  her  life ;  she  was  nobly  reticent  about  them  in  her  eff'ort  to 
spare  my  feelings,  and  only  alluded  to  them  after  I  had 
solemnly  promised  to  adopt  our  child.  She  died,  sir,  in  spite 
of  all  the  care  lavished  upon  her,  and  all  that  science  could 
suggest  was  done  for  her  in  vain.  The  care  and  devotion  that 
had  come  too  late  only  served  to  render  her  last  moments  less 
bitter. 

"  To  support  her  little  one  she  had  worked  incessantly  with 
her  needle.  Love  for  her  child  had  given  her  strength  to 
endure  her  life  of  hardship ;  but  it  had  not  enabled  her 
to  bear  my  desertion,  the  keenest  of  all  her  griefs.  Many 
times  she  had  thought  of  trying  to  see  me,  but  her  woman's 
pride  had  always  prevented  this.  While  I  squandered  floods 
of  gold  upon  my  caprices,  no  memory  of  the  past  had  ever 
bidden  a  single  drop  to  fall  in  her  home  to  help  mother  and 
child  to  live;  but  she  had  been  content  to  weep,  and  had  not 
cursed  me  ;  she  had  looked  upon  her  evil  fortune  as  the  natural 
punishment  of  her  error.  With  the  aid  of  a  good  priest  of 
Saint  Sulpice,  whose  kindly  voice  had  restored  peace  to  her 
soul,  she  had  sought  for  hope  in  the  shadow  of  the  altar, 
whither  she  had  gone  to  dry  her  tears.  The  bitter  flood  that 
I  had  poured  into  her  heart  gradually  abated ;  and  one  day, 
when  she  heard  her  child  say  '  Father,'  a  word  that  she  had 
not  taught  him,  she  forgave  my  crime.  But  sorrow  and  weep- 
ing and  days  and  nights  of  ceaseless  toil  injured  her  health. 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   COXFESSIO.V.  217 

Religion  had  brought  its  consolations  and  the  courage  to  bear 
the  ills  of  life,  but  all  too  late.  She  fell  ill  of  a  heart  com- 
plaint brought  on  by  grief  and  by  the  strain  of  expectation,  for 
she  always  thought  that  I  should  return,  and  her  hopes  always 
sprang  up  afresh  after  every  disappointment.  Her  health  grew 
worse  ;  and  at  last,  as  she  was  lying  on  her  deathbed,  she  wrote 
those  few  lines,  containing  no  word  of  reproach,  prompted  by 
religion,  and  by  a  belief  in  the  goodness  of  my  nature.  She 
knew,  she  said,  that  I  was  blinded  rather  than  bent  on  doing 
wrong.  She  even  accused  herself  of  carrying  her  womanly 
pride  too  far.  '  If  I  had  only  written  sooner,'  she  said,  '  per- 
haps there  might  have  been  time  for  a  marriage  which  would 
have  legitimated  our  child.* 

"  It  was  only  on  her  child's  account  that  she  wished  for  the 
solemnization  of  the  ties  that  bound  us,  nor  would  she  have 
sought  for  this  if  she  had  not  felt  that  death  was  at  hand  to 
unloose  them.  But  it  was  too  late;  even  then  she  had  only 
a  few  hours  to  live.  By  her  bedside,  where  I  had  learned  to 
know  the  worth  of  a  devoted  heart,  my  nature  underwent  a 
final  change.  I  was  still  at  an  age  when  tears  are  shed. 
During  those  last  days,  while  the  precious  life  yet  lingered, 
my  tears,  my  words,  and  everything  I  did  bore  witness  to  my 
heartstricken  repentance.  The  meanness  and  pettiness  of  the 
society  in  which  I  had  moved,  the  emptiness  and  selfishness 
of  women  of  fashion  had  taught  me  to  wish  for  and  to  seek 
an  elect  soul,  and  now  I  had  found  it — too  late.  I  was  weary 
of  lying  words  and  of  masked  faces  ;  counterfeit  passion  had  set 
me  dreaming  ;  I  had  called  on  love  ;  and  now  I  beheld  love 
lying  before  me,  slain  by  my  own  hands,  and  had  no  power 
to  keep  it  beside  me,  no  power  to  keep  what  was  so  wholly 
mine. 

"  The  experience  of  four  years  had  taught  me  to  know  my 
own  real  character.  My  temperament,  the  nature  of  my  im- 
agination, my  religious  principles,  which  had  not  been  eradi- 
cated, but  had    rather  lain  dormant ;  my  turn  of  mind,  my 


218  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

heart  that  only  now  began  to  make  itself  felt — everything 
within  me  led  me  to  resolve  to  fill  my  life  with  the  pleasures  of 
affection,  to  replace  a  lawless  love  by  family  happiness — the 
truest  happiness  on  earth.  Visions  of  close  and  dear  com- 
panionship appealed  to  me  but  the  more  strongly  for  my 
wanderings  in  the  wilderness,  my  grasping  at  pleasures  unen- 
nobled  by  thought  or  feeling.  So  though  the  revolution  within 
me  was  rapidly  effected,  it  was  permanent.  With  my  southern 
temperament,  warped  by  the  life  I  led  in  Paris,  I  should  cer- 
tainly have  come  to  look  without  pity  on  an  unhappy  girl 
betrayed  by  her  lover  ;  I  should  have  laughed  at  the  story  if 
it  had  been  told  me  by  some  wag  in  merry  company  (for 
with  us  in  France  a  clever  bon  mot  dispels  all  feeling  of  horror 
at  a  crime),  but  all  sophistries  were  silenced  in  the  presence  of 
this  angelic  creature,  against  whom  I  could  bring  not  the  least 
word  of  reproach.  There  stood  her  coffin,  and  my  child, 
who  did  not  know  that  I  had  murdered  his  mother,  smiled 
at  me. 

"  She  died.  She  died  happy  when  she  saw  that  I  loved  her, 
and  that  this  new  love  was  due  neither  to  pity  nor  to  the  ties 
that  bound  us  together.  Never  shall  I  forget  her  last  hours. 
Love  had  been  won  back,  her  mind  was  at  rest  about  her  child, 
and  happiness  triumphed  over  suffering.  The  comfort  and 
luxury  about  her,  the  merriment  of  her  child,  who  looked 
prettier  still  in  the  dainty  garb  that  had  replaced  his  baby- 
clothes,  were  pledges  of  a  happy  future  for  the  little  one,  in 
whom  she  saw  her  owji  life  renewed. 

"  The  curate  of  Saint  Sulpice  witnessed  my  terrible  distress. 
His  words  wellnigh  made  me  despair.  He  did  not  attempt  to 
offer  conventional  consolation,  and  put  the  gravity  of  my 
responsibilities  unsparingly  before  me,  but  I  had  no  need  of  a 
spur.  The  conscience  within  me  spoke  loudly  enough  already. 
A  woman  had  placed  a  generous  confidence  in  me.  I  had  lied 
to  her  from  the  first;  I  had  told  her  that  I  loved  her,  and  then 
I  had  cast  her  off;  I  had  brought  all  this  sorrow  upon  an  un- 


THE    COUXTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  219 

happy  girl  who  had  braved  the  opinion  of  the  world  for  me, 
and  who  therefore  should  have  been  sacred  in  my  eyes.  She 
had  died  forgiving  me.  Her  implicit  trust  in  the  word  of  a 
man  who  had  once  before  broken  his  promise  to  her  effaced 
the  memory  of  all  her  pain  and  grief,  and  she  slept  in  peace. 
Agatha,  who  had  given  me  her  girlish  faith,  had  found  in  her 
heart  another  faith  to  give  me — the  faith  of  a  mother.  Oh  ! 
sir,  the  child,  her  child  !  God  alone  can  know  all  that  he 
was  to  me  !  The  dear  little  one  was  like  his  mother ;  he  had 
her  winning  grace  in  his  little  ways,  his  talk  and  ideas ;  but 
for  me,  my  child  was  not  only  a  child,  but  something  more; 
was  he  not  the  token  of  my  forgiveness,  my  honor? 

"  He  should  have  more  than  a  father's  affection.  He  should 
be  loved  as  his  mother  would  have  loved  him.  My  remorse 
might  change  to  happiness  if  I  could  only  make  him  feel  that 
his  mother's  arms  were  still  about  him.  I  clung  to  him  with 
all  the  force  of  hum.an  love  and  the  hope  of  heaven,  with  all 
the  tenderness  in  my  heart  that  God  has  given  to  mothers. 
The  sound  of  the  child's  voice  made  me  tremble.  I  used  to 
watch  him  while  he  slept  with  a  sense  of  gladness  that  was 
always  new,  albeit  a  tear  sometimes  fell  on  his  forehead ;  I 
taught  him  to  come  to  say  his  prayer  upon  my  bed  as  soon  as 
he  awoke.  How  sweet  and  touching  were  the  simple  words 
of  the  Pater-noster  in  the  innocent  childish  mouth  !  Ah  ! 
and  at  times  how  terrible  !  '  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,' 
he  began  one  morning;  then  he  paused — '  Why  is  it  not  our 
mother?'  he  asked,  and  my  heart  sank  at  his  words. 

"  From  the  very  first  I  had  sown  the  seeds  of  future  mis- 
fortune in  the  life  of  the  son  whom  I  idolized.  Although  the 
law  has  almost  countenanced  errors  of  youth  by  concedmg  to 
tardy  regret  a  legal  status  to  natural  children,  the  insurmount- 
able prejudices  of  society  bring  a  strong  force  to  the  support 
of  the  reluctance  of  the  law.  All  serious  reflection  on  my 
part  as  to  the  foundations  and  mechanism  of  society,  on  the 
duties  of  man,  and  vital  questions  of  morality  date  from  this 


220  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

period  of  my  life.  Genius  comprehends  at  first  sight  the 
connection  between  a  man's  principles  and  the  fate  of  the 
society  of  which  he  forms  a  part ;  devout  souls  are  mspired  by 
religion  with  the  sentiments  necessary  for  their  happiness ;  but 
vehement  and  impulsive  natures  can  only  be  schooled  by 
repentance.  With  repentance  came  new  light  for  me;  and  I, 
who  only  lived  for  my  child,  came  through  that  child  to  think 
over  great  social  questions. 

"  I  determined  from  the  first  that  he  should  have  all  pos- 
sible means  of  success  within  himself,  and  that  he  should  be 
thoroughly  prepared  to  take  the  high  position  for  which  I 
destined  him.  He  learned  English,  German,  Italian,  and 
Spanish  in  succession ;  and,  that  he  might  speak  these  lan- 
guages correctly,  tutors  belonging  to  each  of  these  various 
nationalities  were  successively  placed  about  him  from  his 
earliest  childhood.  His  aptitude  delighted  me.  I  took  ad- 
vantage of  it  to  give  him  lessons  in  the  guise  of  play.  I 
wished  to  keep  his  mind  free  from  fallacies,  and  strove  before 
all  things  to  accustom  him  from  childhood  to  exert  his  intel- 
lectual powers,  to  make  a  rapid  and  accurate  general  survey 
of  a  matter,  and  then,  by  a  careful  study  of  every  minor  par- 
ticular, to  master  his  subject  in  detail.  Lastly,  I  taught  him 
to  submit  to  discipline  without  murmuring.  I  never  allowed 
an  impure  or  improper  word  to  be  spoken  in  his  hearing.  I 
was  careful  that  all  his  surroundings,  and  the  men  with  whom 
he  came  in  contact,  should  conduce  to  one  end — to  ennoble 
his  nature,  to  set  lofty  ideals  before  him,  to  give  him  a  love 
of  truth  and  a  horror  of  lies,  to  make  him  simple  and  natural 
in  manner,  as  in  word  and  deed.  His  natural  aptitude  had 
made  his  other  studies  easy  to  him,  and  his  imagination  made 
him  quick  to  grasp  these  lessons  that  lay  outside  the  province 
of  the  school-room.  What  a  fair  flower  to  tend  !  How  great 
are  the  joys  that  mothers  know  !  In  those  days  I  began  to 
understand  how  his  own  mother  had  been  able  to  live  and 
to  bear  her  sorrow.     This,    sir,    was  the  great  event  of  my 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  221 

life ;  and  now  I  am  coming  to  the  tragedy  which  drove  me 
hither. 

"It  is  the  most  ordinary  commonplace  story  imaginable  ; 
but  to  me  it  meant  the  most  terrible  pain.  For  some  years  I 
had  thought  of  nothing  but  my  child,  and  how  to  make  a 
man  of  him ;  then  when  my  son  was  growing  up  and  about  to 
leave  me,  I  grew  afraid  of  my  loneliness.  Love  was  a  neces- 
sity of  my  existence ;  this  need  for  affection  had  never  been 
satisfied,  and  only  grew  stronger  with  years.  I  was  in  every 
way  capable  of  a  real  attachment ;  I  had  been  tried  and 
proved.  I  knew  all  that  a  steadfast  love  means,  the  love  that 
delights  to  find  a  pleasure  in  self-sacrifice  \  in  everything  I 
did  my  first  thought  would  always  be  for  the  woman  I  loved. 
In  imagination  I  was  fain  to  dwell  on  the  serene  heights  far 
above  doubt  and  uncertainty,  where  love  so  fills  two  beings 
that  happiness  flows  quietly  and  evenly  into  their  life,  their 
looks,  and  words.  Such  love  is  to  a  life  what  religion  is  to 
the  soul ;  a  vital  force,  a  power  that  enlightens  and  upholds. 
I  understood  the  love  of  husband  and  wife  in  nowise  as  most 
people  do;  for  me  its  full  beauty  and  magnificence  began 
precisely  at  the  point  where  love  perishes  in  many  a  household. 
I  deeply  felt  the  moral  grandeur  of  a  life  so  closely  shared  by 
two  souls  that  the  trivialities  of  every-day  existence  should  be 
powerless  against  such  lasting  love  as  theirs.  But  where  will 
the  hearts  be  found  whose  beats  are  so  nearly  isochronous  (let 
the  scientific  term  pass)  that  they  may  attain  to  this  beatific 
union  ?  If  they  exist,  nature  and  chance  have  set  them  far 
apart,  so  that  they  cannot  come  together;  they  find  each 
other  too  late,  or  death  comes  too  soon  to  separate  them. 
There  must  be  some  good  reasons  for  these  dispensations  of 
fate,  but  I  have  never  sought  to  discover  them.  I  cannot 
make  a  study  of  my  wound,  because  I  suffer  too  much  from  it. 
Perhaps  perfect  happiness  is  a  monster  which  our  species 
should  not  perpetuate.  There  were  other  causes  for  my  fer- 
vent desire  for  such  a  marriage  as  this.     I  had  no  friends,  the 


222  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

world  for  me  was  a  desert.  There  is  something  in  me  that 
repels  friendship.  More  than  one  person  has  sought  me  out, 
but,  in  spite  of  efforts  on  my  part,  it  came  to  nothing.  With 
many  men  I  have  been  careful  to  show  no  sign  of  something 
that  is  called  '  superiority ; '  I  have  adapted  my  mind  to 
theirs ;  I  have  placed  myself  at  their  point  of  view,  joined  in 
their  laughter,  and  overlooked  their  defects ;  any  fame  I 
might  have  gained,  I  would  have  bartered  for  a  little  kindly 
affection.  They  parted  from  me  without  regret.  If  you  seek 
for  real  feeling  in  Paris,  snares  await  you  everywhere,  and  the 
end  is  sorrow.  Wherever  I  set  my  foot,  the  ground  round 
about  me  seemed  to  burn.  My  readiness  to  acquiesce  was 
considered  weakness ;  though  if  I  unsheathed  my  talons,  like 
a  man  conscious  that  he  may  some  day  wield  the  thunder- 
bolts of  power,  I  was  thought  ill-natured ;  to  others,  the 
delightful  laughter  that  ceases  with  youth,  and  in  which  in 
later  years  we  are  almost  ashamed  to  indulge,  seemed  absurd, 
and  they  amused  themselves  at  my  expense.  People  may  be 
bored  nowadays,  but  none  the  less  they  expect  you  to  treat 
every  trivial  topic  with  befitting  seriousness. 

"  A  hateful  era  !  You  must  bow  down  before  mediocrity, 
frigidly  polite  mediocrity  which  you  despise — and  obey.  On 
more  mature  reflection,  I  have  discovered  the  reasons  of  these 
glaring  inconsistencies.  Mediocrity  is  never  out  of  fashion, 
it  is  the  daily  wear  of  society  ;  genius  and  eccentricity  are 
ornaments  that  are  locked  away  and  only  brought  out  on  cer- 
tain days.  Everything  that  ventures  forth  beyond  the  protec- 
tion of  the  grateful  shadow  of  mediocrity  has  something 
startling  about  it. 

"  So,  in  the  midst  of  Paris,  I  led  a  solitary  life.  I  had 
given  up  everything  to  society,  but  it  had  given  me  nothing  in 
return ;  and  my  child  was  not  enough  to  satisfy  my  heart, 
because  I  was  not  a  woman.  My  life  seemed  to  be  growing 
cold  within  me  ;  I  was  bending  under  a  load  of  secret  misery 
when  I  met  the  woman  who  was  to  make  me  know  the  might 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S  CONFESSION.  223 

of  love,  the  reverence  of  an  acknowledged  love,  love  with  its 
teeming  hopes  of  happiness — in  one  word — love. 

"I  had  renewed  ray  acquaintance  with  that  old  friend  of 
my  father's  who  had  once  taken  charge  of  my  affairs.  It  was 
in  his  house  that  I  first  met  her  whom  I  must  love  as  long  as 
life  shall  last.  The  longer  we  live,  sir,  the  more  clearly  we 
see  the  enormous  influence  of  ideas  upon  the  events  of  life. 
Prejudices,  worthy  of  all  respect,  and  l)red  by  noble  religious 
ideas,  occasioned  my  misfortunes.  This  young  girl  belonged 
to  ati  exceedingly  devout  family,  whose  views  of  Catholicism 
were  due  to  the  spirit  of  a  sect  improperly  styled  Jansenists, 
which,  in  former  times,  caused  troubles  in  France.  You 
know  why?  " 

"  No,"  said  Genestas. 

"  Jansenius,  Bishop  of  Ypres,  once  wrote  a  book  which  was 
believed  to  contain  propositions  at  variance  with  the  doctrines 
of  the  Holy  See.  When  examined  at  a  later  date,  there 
appeared  to  be  nothing  heretical  in  the  wording  of  the  text ; 
some  authors  even  went  so  far  as  to  deny  that  the  heretical 
propositions  had  any  real  existence.  However  it  was,  these 
insignificant  disputes  gave  rise  to  two  parties  in  the  Galilean 
Church — the  Jansenists  and  the  Jesuits.  Great  men  were 
found  in  either  camp,  and  a  struggle  began  between  two 
powerful  bodies.  The  Jansenists  affected  an  excessive  purity 
of  morals  and  of  doctrine,  and  accused  the  Jesuits  of  preach- 
ing a  relaxed  morality.  The  Jansenists,  in  fact,  were  Catholic 
Puritans,  if  two  contradictory  terms  can  be  combined.  Dur- 
ing the  Revolution,  the  Concordat  occasioned  an  unimportant 
schism,  a  little  segregation  of  ultra-catholics  who  refused  to 
recognize  the  Bishops  appointed  by  the  authorities  with  the 
consent  of  the  Pope.  This  little  body  of  the  faithful  was 
called  the  Little  Church  ;  and  those  within  its  fold,  like  the 
Jansenists,  led  the  strictly  ordered  lives  that  appear  to  be  a 
first  necessity  of  existence  in  all  proscribed  and  persecuted 
sects.     Many  Jansenist  families  had  joined  the  Little  Church. 


224  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

The  family  to  which  this  young  girl  belonged  had  embraced 
the  equally  rigid  doctrines  of  both  these  Puritanisms,  tenets 
which  impart  a  stern  dignity  to  the  character  and  mien  of 
those  who  hold  them.  It  is  the  nature  of  positive  doctrine  to 
exaggerate  the  importance  of  the  most  ordinary  actions  of 
life  by  connecting  them  with  ideas  of  a  future  existence. 
This  is  the  source  of  a  splendid  and  delicate  purity  of  heart, 
a  respect  for  others  and  for  self,  of  an  indescribably  keen  sense 
of  right  and  wrong,  a  wide  charity,  together  with  a  justice  so 
stern  that  it  might  well  be  called  inexorable,  and,  lastly,  a  per- 
fect hatred  of  lies  and  of  all  the  vices  comprised  by  falsehood. 
"  I  can  recall  no  more  delightful  moments  than  those  of 
our  first  meeting  at  my  old  friend's  house.  I  beheld  for  the 
first  time  this  shy  young  girl  with  her  sincere  nature,  her 
habits  of  ready  obedience.  All  the  virtues  peculiar  to  the 
sect  to  which  she  belonged  shone  in  her,  but  she  seemed  to  be 
unconscious  of  her  merit.  There  was  a  grace,  which  no 
austerity  could  diminish,  about  every  movement  of  her  lissome, 
slender  form  ;  her  quiet  brow,  the  delicate  grave  outlines  of 
her  face,  and  her  clearly-cut  features  indicated  noble  birth ; 
her  expression  was  gentle  and  proud ;  her  thick  hair  had  been 
simply  braided,  the  coronet  of  plaits  about  her  head  served, 
all  unknown  to  her,  as  an  adornment.  Captain,  she  was  for 
me  the  ideal  type  that  is  always  made  real  for  us  in  the  woman 
with  whom  we  fall  in  love ;  for  when  we  love,  is  it  not  because 
we  recognize  beauty  that  we  have  dreamed  of,  the  beauty  that 
has  existed  in  idea  for  us  is  realized  ?  When  I  spoke  to  her, 
she  answered  simply,  without  shyness  or  eagerness ;  she  did 
not  know  what  a  pleasure  it  was  to  me  to  see  her,  to  hear  the 
musical  sounds  of  her  voice.  All  these  angels  are  revealed  to 
our  hearts  by  the  same  signs  ;  by  the  sweetness  of  their  tones, 
the  tenderness  in  their  eyes,  by  their  fair,  pale  faces,  and  their 
gracious  ways.  All  these  things  are  so  blended  and  mingled 
that  we  feel  the  charm  of  their  presence,  yet  cannot  tell  in 
what  that  charm  consists,  and  every  movement  is  an  expression 


THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  225 

of  a  divine  soul  within.  I  loved  passionately.  This  newly- 
awakened  love  satisfied  all  my  restless  longings,  all  my  ambi- 
tious dreams.  She  was  beautiful,  wealthy,  and  nobly  born  ; 
she  had  been  carefully  brought  up;  she  had  all  the  qualifica- 
tions which  the  world  positively  demands  of  a  woman  placed 
in  the  high  position  which  I  desired  to  reach ;  she  had  been 
well  educated,  she  expressed  herself  with  a  sprightly  facility  at 
once  rare  and  common  in  France ;  where  the  most  prettily- 
worded  phrases  of  many  women  are  emptiness  itself,  while  her 
bright  talk  was  full  of  sense.  Above  all,  she  had  a  deep  con- 
sciousness of  her  own  dignity  which  made  others  respect  her ; 
I  know  of  no  more  excellent  thing  in  a  wife.  I  must  stop, 
captain  ;  no  one  can  describe  the  woman  he  loves  save  very 
imperfectly,  pre-existent  mysteries  which  defy  analysis  lie 
between  them. 

"  I  very  soon  took  my  old  friend  into  my  confidence.  He 
^introduced  me  to  her  family,  and  gave  me  the  countenance  of 
his  honorable  character.  I  was  received  at  first  with  the  frigid 
politeness  characteristic  of  those  exclusive  people  who  never 
forsake  those  whom  they  have  once  admitted  to  their  friend- 
ship. As  time  went  on  they  welcomed  me  almost  as  one 
of  the  family ;  this  mark  of  their  esteem  was  won  by  my  be- 
havior in  the  matter.  In  spite  of  my  passionate  love,  I  did 
nothing  that  could  lower  me  in  my  own  eyes  ;  I  did  not  cringe, 
I  paid  no  court  to  those  upon  whom  my  fate  depended,  before 
all  things  I  showed  myself  a  man,  and  not  other  than  I  really 
was.  When  I  was  well  known  to  them,  my  old  friend,  who 
was  as  desirous  as  I  myself  that  my  life  of  melancholy  loneli- 
ness should  come  to  an  end,  spoke  of  my  hopes  and  met  with 
a  favorable  reception  ;  but  with  the  diplomatic  shrewdness 
which  is  almost  a  second  nature  with  men  of  the  world,  he  was 
silent  with  regard  to  an  error  of  my  youth,  as  he  termed  it. 
He  was  anxious  to  bring  about  a  *  satisfactory  marriage '  for 
me,  an  expression  that  makes  of  so  solemn  an  act  a  business 
transaction  in  which  husband  and  wife  endeavor  to  cheat  each 
15 


226  THE   COUXTRY  DOCTOR. 

Other.  In  his  opinion,  the  existence  of  my  child  would  excite 
a  moral  repugnance,  in  comparison  with  which  the  question 
of  money  would  be  as  nought,  and  the  whole  affair  would  be 
broken  off  at  once,  and  he  was  right. 

"  *  It  is  a  matter  which  will  be  very  easily  settled  between 
you  and  your  wife  ;  it  will  be  easy  to  obtain  her  full  and  free 
forgiveness,'  he  said. 

"  In  short,  he  tried  to  silence  my  scruples,  and  all  the  in- 
sidious arguments  that  worldly  wisdom  could  suggest  were 
brought  to  bear  upon  me  to  this  end.  I  will  confess  to  you, 
sir,  that,  in  spite  of  my  promise,  my  first  impulse  was  to  act 
straightforwardly  and  to  make  everything  known  to  the  head 
of  the  family,  but  the  thought  of  his  uncompromising  sternness 
made  me  pause,  and  the  probable  consequences  of  the  confes- 
sion appalled  me  ;  my  courage  failed,  I  temporized  with  my 
conscience,  I  determined  to  wait  until  I  was  sufficiently  sure 
of  the  affection  of  the  girl  I  hoped  to  win  before  hazarding 
my  happiness  by  the  terrible  confession.  My  resolution  to 
acknowledge  everything  openly,  at  a  convenient  season,  vin- 
dicated the  sophistries  of  worldly  wisdom  and  the  sagacity  of 
my  old  friend.  So  the  young  girl's  parents  received  me  as 
their  future  son-in-law  without,  as  yet,  taking  their  friends 
into  their  confidence. 

"An  infinite  discretion  is  the  distinguishing  quality  of 
pious  families ;  they  are  reticent  about  everything,  even  about 
matters  of  no  importance.  You  would  not  believe,  sir,  how 
this  sedate  gravity  and  reserve,  pervading  every  minor  action, 
deepens  the  current  of  feeling  and  thought.  Everything  in 
that  house  was  done  with  some  useful  end  in  view  ;  the  women 
spent  their  leisure  time  in  making  garments  for  the  poor; 
their  conversation  was  never  frivolous ;  laughter  was  not 
banished,  but  there  was  a  kindly  simplicity  about  their  merri- 
ment. Their  talk  had  none  of  the  piquancy  which  scandal 
and  ill-natured  gossip  give  to  the  conversation  of  society  ; 
only  the  father  and  uncle  read  the  newspapers,  even  the  most 


THE   COUNTRY  DOCTORS   CONFESSION.  Til 

harmless  journal  contains  references  to  crimes  or  to  public 
evils,  and  she  whom  I  hoped  to  win  had  never  cast  her  eyes 
over  their  sheets.  How  strange  it  was,  at  first,  to  listen  to 
these  orthodox  people !  But  in  a  little  while,  the  pure 
atmosphere  left  the  same  impression  upon  the  soul  that  sub- 
dued colors  give  to  the  eyes,  a  sense  of  serene  repose  and  of 
tranquil  peace. 

"  To  a  superficial  observer,  their  life  would  have  seemed 
terribly  monotonous.  There  was  something  chilling  about 
the  appearance  of  the  interior  of  the  house.  Day  after  day 
I  used  to  see  everything,  even  the  furniture  in  constant  use, 
always  standing  in  the  same  place,  and  this  uniform  tidiness 
pervaded  the  smallest  details.  Yet  there  was  something  very 
attractive  about  their  household  ways.  I  had  been  used  to 
the  pleasures  of  variety,  to  the  luxury  and  stir  of  life  in 
Paris;  it  was  only  when  I  had  overcome  my  first  repugnance 
that  I  saw  the  advantages  of  this  existence ;  how  it  lent  itself 
to  continuity  of  thought  and  to  involuntary  meditation  ;  how 
a  life  in  which  the  heart  has  undisturbed  sway  seems  to  widen 
and  grow  vast  as  the  sea.  It  is  like  the  life  of  the  cloister, 
where  the  outward  surroundings  never  vary,  and  thought  is 
thus  compelled  to  detach  itself  from  outward  things  and  to 
turn  to  the  infinite  that  lies  within  the  soul ! 

"For  a  man  as  sincerely  in  love  as  I  was,  the  silence  and 
simplicity  of  the  life,  the  almost  conventual  regularity  with 
which  the  same  things  were  done  daily  at  the  same  hours, 
only  deepened  and  strengthened  love.  In  that  profound 
calm  the  interest  attaching  to  the  least  action,  word,  or  gesture 
became  immense,  I  learned  to  know  that,  in  the  interchange 
of  glances  and  in  answering  smiles,  there  lies  an  eloquence 
and  a  variety  of  language  far  beyond  the  possibilities  of  the 
most  magnificent  of  spoken  phrases  ;  that  when  the  expression 
of  the  feelings  is  spontaneous  and  unforced,  there  is  no  idea, 
no  joy  nor  sorrow  that  cannot  thus  be  communicated  by  hearts 
that  understand  each  other.     How  many  times  I  have  tried  to 


228  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

set  forth  my  soul  in  my  eyes  or  on  my  lips,  compelled  at  once 
to  speak  and  to  be  silent  concerning  my  passion ;  for  the 
young  girl,  who,  in  my  presence,  was  always  serene  and 
unconscious,  had  not  been  informed  of  the  reason  of  my  con- 
stant visits;  her  parents  were  determined  that  the  most 
important  decision  of  her  life  should  rest  entirely  with  her. 
But  does  not  the  presence  of  our  beloved  satisfy  the  utmost 
desire  of  passionate  love  ?  In  that  presence  do  we  not  know 
the  happiness  of  the  Christian  who  stands  before  God  ?  If 
for  me  more  than  for  any  other  it  was  torture  to  have  no  right 
to  give  expression  to  the  impulses  of  my  heart,  to  force  back 
into  its  depths  the  burning  words  that  treacherously  wrong 
the  yet  more  ardent  emotions  wliich  strive  to  find  an  utter- 
ance in  speech  ;  I  found,  nevertheless,  in  the  merest  trifles  a 
channel  through  which  my  passionate  love  poured  itself  forth 
but  the  more  vehemently  for  this  constraint,  till  every  minor 
occurrence  came  to  have  an  excessive  importance. 

"I  beheld  her,  not  for  brief  moments,  but  for  whole  hours. 
There  were  pauses  between  my  question  and  her  answer,  and 
long  musings,  when,  with  the  tones  of  her  voice  lingering  in 
my  ears,  I  sought  to  divine  from  them  the  secret  of  her  inmost 
thoughts  ;  perhaps  her  fingers  would  tremble  as  I  gave  her 
some  object  of  which  she  had  been  in  search,  or  I  would  de- 
vise pretexts  to  lightly  touch  her  dress  or  her  hair,  to  take  her 
hand  in  mine,  to  compel  her  to  speak  more  than  she  wished  ; 
all  these  nothings  were  great  events  for  me.  Eyes  and  voice 
and  gestures  were  freighted  with  mysterious  messages  of  love 
in  hours  of  ecstasy  like  these,  and  this  was  the  only  language 
permitted  me  by  the  quiet  maidenly  reserve  of  the  young  girl 
before  me.  Her  manner  towards  me  underwent  no  change; 
with  me  she  was  always  as  a  sister  with  a  brother ;  yet,  as  my 
passion  grew,  and  the  contrast  between  her  glances  and  mine, 
her  words  and  my  utterances,  became  more  striking,  I  felt  at 
last  that  this  timid  silence  was  the  only  means  by  which  she 
could  express  her  feelings.     Was  she  not  always  in  the  salon 


THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S  CONFESSION.  229 

whenever  I  came  ?  Did  she  not  stay  there  until  my  visit,  ex- 
pected and  perhaps  foreseen,  was  over?  Did  not  this  mute 
tryst  betray  the  secret  of  her  innocent  soul  ?  Nay,  whilst  I 
spoke,  did  she  not  listen  with  a  pleasure  which  she  could  not 
hide? 

"At  last,  no  doubt,  her  parents  grew  impatient  with  this 
artless  behavior  and  sober  love-making.  I  was  almost  as  timid 
as  their  daughter,  and  perhaps  on  this  account  found  favor  in 
their  eyes.  They  regarded  me  as  a  man  worthy  of  their  es- 
teem. My  old  friend  was  taken  into  their  confidence  \  both 
father  and  mother  spoke  of  me  in  the  most  flattering  terms  ; 
I  had  become  their  adopted  son,  and  more  especially  they 
singled  out  my  moral  principles  for  praise.  In  truth  I  had 
found  my  youth  again  ;  among  these  pure  and  religious  sur- 
roundings early  beliefs  and  early  faith  came  back  to  the  man 
of  thirty-two. 

"  The  summer  was  drawing  to  a  close.  Affairs  of  some  im- 
portance had  detained  the  family  in  Paris  longer  than  their 
wont ;  but  when  September  came,  and  they  were  able  to  leave 
town  at  last  for  an  estate  in  Auvergne,  her  father  entreated 
me  to  spend  a  couple  of  months  with  them  in  an  old  chateau 
hidden  away  among  the  mountains  of  the  Cantal.  I  paused 
before  accepting  this  friendly  invitation.  My  hesitation 
brought  me  the  sweetest  and  most  delightful  unconscious  con- 
fession, a  revelation  of  the  mysteries  of  a  girlish  heart.  Eve- 
lina  Dieu  !''  exclaimed  Benassis;   and  he  said  no  more 

for  a  time,  wrapped  in  his  own  thoughts. 

"Pardon  me,  Captain  Bluteau,"  he  resumed,  after  a  long 
pause.  "For  twelve  years  I  have  not  uttered  the  name  that 
is- always  hovering  in  my  thoughts,  that  a  voice  calls  in  my 
hearing  even  when  I  sleep.  Evelina  (since  I  have  named  her) 
raised  her  head  with  a  strange  quickness  and  abruptness,  for 
about  all  her  movements  there  was  an  instinctive  grace  and 
gentleness,  and  looked  at  me.  There  was  no  pride  in  her 
face,  but  rather  a  wistful  anxiety.     Then  her  color  rose,  and 


230  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

her  eyelids  fell ;  it  gave  me  an  indescribable  pleasure  never 
felt  before  that  they  should  fall  so  slowly ;  I  could  only  stam- 
mer out  my  reply  in  a  faltering  voice.  The  emotion  of  my 
own  heart  made  swift  answer  to  hers.  She  thanked  me  by  a 
happy  look,  and  I  almost  thought  that  there  were  tears  in  her 
eyes.  In  that  moment  we  had  told  each  other  everything. 
So  I  went  into  the  country  with  her  family.  Since  the  day 
when  our  hearts  had  understood  each  other,  nothing  seemed 
to  be  as  it  had  been  before  ;  everything  about  us  had  acquired 
a  fresh  significance. 

"Love,  indeed,  is  always  the  same,  though  our  imagination 
determines  the  shape  that  love  must  assume  ;  like  and  unlike, 
therefore,  is  love  in  every  soul  in  which  he  dwells,  and  passion 
becomes  a  unique  work  in  which  the  soul  expresses  its  sym- 
pathies. In  the  old  trite  saying  that  love  is  a  projection  of 
self — a  two  in  one — lies  a  profound  meaning  known  only  to 
philosopher  and  poet ;  for  it  is  ourself  in  truth  that  we  love  in 
that  other.  Yet,  though  love  manifests  itself  in  such  different 
ways  that  no  pair  of  lovers  since  the  world  began  is  like  any 
other  pair  before  or  since,  they  all  express  themselves  after 
the  same  fashion,  and  the  same  words  are  on  the  lips  of  every 
girl,  even  of  the  most  innocent,  convent-bred  maiden — the 
only  difference  lies  in  the  degree  of  imaginative  charm  in 
their  ideas.  But  between  Evelina  and  other  girls  there  was 
this  difference,  that  where  another  would  have  poured  out  her 
feelings  quite  naturally,  Evelina  regarded  these  innocent  con- 
fidences as  a  concession  made  to  the  stormy  emotions  which 
had  invaded  the  quiet  sanctuary  of  her  girlish  soul.  The  con- 
stant struggle  between  her  heart  and  her  principles  gave  to  the 
least  event  of  her  life,  so  peaceful  in  appearance,  in  reality  so 
profoundly  agitated,  a  character  of  force  very  superior  to  the 
exaggerations  of  young  girls  whose  manners  are  early  rendered 
false  by  the  world  about  them.  All  through  the  journey 
Evelina  discovered  beauty  in  the  scenery  through  which  we 
passed,  and  spoke  of  it  with  admiration.     When  we  think 


THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  231 

that  we  may  not  give  expression  to  the  happiness  which  is 
given  to  us  by  the  presence  of  one  we  love,  we  pour  out  the 
secret  gladness  that  overflows  our  hearts  upon  inanimate 
things,  investing  them  with  beauty  in  our  happiness.  The 
charm  of  the  scenery  which  passed  before  our  eyes  became 
in  this  way  an  interpreter  between  us,  for  in  our  praises  of 
the  landscape  we  revealed  to  each  other  the  secrets  of  our 
love.  Evelina's  mother  sometimes  took  a  mischievous  pleas- 
ure in  disconcerting  her  daughter. 

"  '  My  dear  child,  you  have  been  through  this  valley  a  score 
of  times  without  seeming  to  admire  it  !  '  she  remarked  after  a 
somewhat  too  enthusiastic  phrase  from  Evelina. 

"  '  No  doubt  it  was  because  I  was  not  old  enough  to  under- 
stand beauty  of  this  kind,  mother.' 

"  Forgive  me  for  dwelling  on  this  trifle,  which  can  have  no 
charm  for  you,  captain  ;  but  the  simple  words  brought  me 
an  indescribable  joy,  which  had  its  source  in  the  glance  di- 
rected towards  me  as  she  spoke.  So  some  village  lighted  by 
the  sunrise,  some  ivy-covered  ruin  which  we  had  seen  together, 
memories  of  outward  and  visible  things,  served  to  deepep  and 
strengthen  the  impressions  of  our  happiness  ;  they  seemed  to 
be  landmarks  on  the  way  through  which  we  were  passing 
towards  a  bright  future  that  lay  before  us. 

*'  We  reached  the  chateau  belonging  to  her  family,  where  I 
spent  about  six  weeks,  the  only  time  in  my  life  during  which 
heaven  has  vouchsafed  complete  happiness  to  me.  I  enjoyed 
pleasures  unknown  to  town-dwellers — all  the  happiness  which 
two  lovers  find  in  living  beneath  the  same  roof,  an  anticipa- 
tion of  the  life  they  will  spend  together.  To  stroll  through 
the  fields,  to  be  alone  together  at  times,  if  we  wished  it,  to 
look  over  an  old  water-mill,  to  sit  beneath  a  tree  in  some 
lovely  glen  among  the  hills,  the  lovers'  talks,  the  sweet  con- 
fidences drawn  forth  by  which  each  made  some  progress  day 
by  day  in  the  other's  heart.  Ah  !  sir,  the  out-of-door  life,  the 
beauty  of  earth  and  heaven,  is  a  perfect  accompaniment  to  the 


232  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

complete  happiness  of  the  soul !  To  mingle  our  careless  talk 
with  the  song  of  the  birds  among  the  dewy  leaves,  to  smile  at 
each  other  as  we  gazed  on  the  sky,  to  turn  our  steps  slowly 
homeward  at  the  sound  of  the  bell  that  always  rings  too  soon, 
to  admire  together  some  little  detail  in  the  landscape,  to  watch 
the  fitful  movements  of  an  insect,  to  look  closely  at  a  gleam- 
ing demoiselle  fly — the  delicate  creature  that  resembles  an 
innocent  and  loving  girl ;  in  such  ways  as  these  are  not  one's 
thoughts  drawn  daily  a  little  higher?  The  memories  of  my 
forty  days  of  happiness  have  in  a  manner  colored  all  the  rest 
of  my  life,  memories  that  are  all  the  fairer  and  fill  the  greater 
space  in  my  thoughts,  because  since  then  it  has  been  my  fate 
never  to  be  understood.  To  this  day  there  are  scenes  of  no 
special  interest  for  a  casual  observer,  but  full  of  bitter  signifi- 
cance for  a  broken  heart,  which  recall  those  vanished  days, 
and  the  love  that  is  not  forgotten  yet. 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  you  noticed  the  effect  of  the  sun- 
set light  on  the  cottage  where  little  Jacques  lives?  Every- 
thing shone  so  brightly  in  the  fiery  rays  of  the  sun,  and  then 
all  at  once  the  whole  landscape  grew  dark  and  dreary.  That 
sudden  change  was  like  the  change  in  my  own  life  at  this 
time.  I  received  from  her  the  first,  the  sole  and  sublime 
token  of  love  that  an  innocent  girl  may  give;  the  more 
secretly  it  is  given,  the  closer  is  the  bond  it  forms,  the  sweet 
promise  of  love,  a  fragment  of  the  language  spoken  in  a  fairer 
world  than  this.  Sure,  therefore,  of  being  beloved,  I  vowed 
that  I  would  confess  everything  at  once,  that  I  would  have  no 
secrets  fi^m  her ;  I  felt  ashamed  that  I  had  so  long  delayed 
to  tell  her  about  the  sorrows  that  I  had  brought  upon  myself. 

"  Unluckily,  with  the  morrow  of  this  happy  day  a  letter 
came  from  my  son's  tutor,  the  life  of  the  child  so  dear  to  me 
was  in  danger.  I  went  away  without  confiding  my  secret  to 
Evelina,  merely  telling  her  family  that  I  was  urgently  required 
in  Paris.  Her  parents  took  alarm  during  my  absence.  They 
feared  that  there  I  was  entangled  in  some  way,  and  wrote  to 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S  CONFESSION.  233 

Paris  to  make  inquiries  about  me.  It  was  scarcely  consistent 
with  their  religious  principles  ;  but  they  suspected  me,  and 
did  not  even  give  me  an  opportunity  of  clearing  myself. 

*'  One  of  their  friends,  without  my  knowledge,  gave  them 
the  whole  history  of  my  youth,  blackening  my  errors,  laying 
stress  upon  the  existence  of  my  child,  which  (said  they)  I  in- 
tended  to  conceal.  I  wrote  to  my  future  parents,  but  I 
received  no  answers  to  my  letters ;  and  when  they  came  back 
to  Paris,  and  I  called  at  their  house,  I  was  not  admitted. 
Much  alarmed,  I  sent  to  my  old  friend  to  learn  the  reason  of 
this  conduct  on  their  part,  which  I  did  not  in  the  least  under- 
stand. As  soon  as  the  good  soul  knew  the  real  cause  of  it  all, 
he  sacrificed  himself  generously,  took  upon  himself  all  the 
blame  of  my  reserve,  and  tried  to  exculpate  me,  but  all  to  no 
purpose.  Questions  of  interest  and  morality  were  regarded 
so  seriously  by  the  family,  their  prejudices  were  so  firmly  and 
deeply  rooted,  that  they  never  swerved  from  their  resolution. 
My  despair  was  overwhelming.  At  first  I  tried  to  deprecate 
their  wrath,  but  my  letters  were  sent  back  to  me  unopened. 
When  every  possible  means  had  been  tried  in  vain  ;  when  her 
father  and  mother  had  plainly  told  my  old  friend  (the  cause 
of  my  misfortune)  that  they  would  never  consent  to  their 
daughter's  marriage  with  a  man  who  had  upon  his  conscience 
the  death  of  a  woman  and  the  life  of  a  natural  son,  even 
though  Evelina  herself  should  implore  them  upon  her  knees; 
then,  sir,  there  only  remained  to  me  one  last  hope,  a  hope  as 
slender  and  fragile  as  the  willow-branch  at  which  a  drowning 
wretch  catches  to  save  himself. 

•*I  ventured  to  think  that  Evelina's  love  would  be  stronger 
than  her  father's  scruples,  that  her  inflexible  parents  might 
yield  to  her  entreaties.  Perhaps,  who  knows,  her  father  had 
kept  from  her  the  reasons  of  the  refusal,  which  were  so  fatal  to 
our  love.  I  determined  to  acquaint  her  with  all  the  circum- 
stances, and  to  make  a  final  appeal  to  her ;  and  in  fear  and 
trembling,  in  grief  and  tears,  my  first  and  last  love-letter  was 


234  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

written.  To-day  I  can  only  dimly  remember  the  words 
dictated  to  me  by  my  despair  ;  but  I  must  have  told  Evelina 
that  if  she  had  dealt  sincerely  with  me  she  could  not  and 
ought  not  to  love  another,  or  how  could  her  whole  life  be 
anything  but  a  lie  ?  she  must  be  false  either  to  her  future  hus- 
band or  to  me.  Could  she  refuse  to  the  lover,  who  had  been 
so  misjudged  and  hardly  entreated,  the  devotion  which  she 
would  have  shown  to  him  as  her  husband,  if  the  marriage 
which  had  already  taken  place  in  our  hearts  had  been  out- 
wardly solemnized?  Was  not  this  to  fall  from  the  ideal  of 
womanly  virtue  ?  What  woman  would  not  love  to  feel  that 
the  promises  of  the  heart  were  more  sacred  and  binding  than 
the  chains  forged  by  the  law  ?  I  defended  my  errors ;  and  in 
my  appeal  to  the  purity  of  innocence,  I  left  nothing  unsaid 
that  could  touch  a  noble  and  generous  nature.  But  as  I  am 
telling  you  everything,  I  will  look  for  her  answer  and  my  fare- 
well letter,"  said  Benassis,  and  he  went  up  to  his  room  in 
search  of  it. 

He  returned  in  a  few  moments  with  a  worn  pocketbook; 
his  hands  trembled  with  emotion  as  he  drew  from  it  some 
loose  sheets. 

"  Here  is  the  fatal  letter,"  he  said.  "  The  girl  who  wrote 
those  lines  little  knew  the  value  that  I  should  set  upon  the 
scrap  of  paper  that  holds  her  thoughts.  This  is  the  last  cry 
that  pain  wrung  from  me,"  he  added,  taking  up  a  second 
letter ;  "  I  will  lay  it  before  you  directly.  My  old  friend  was 
the  bearer  of  ,my  letter  of  entreaty ;  he  gave  it  to  her  without 
her  parents'  knowledge,  humbling  his  white  hair  to  implore 
Evelina  to  read  and  to  reply  to  my  appeal.  This  was  her 
answer : 

"'Monsieur '     But  lately  I  had  been  her  'beloved,' 

the  innocent  name  she  had  found  by  which  to  express  her 

innocent  love,  and  now  she  called  va^  Monsieur  ! That  one 

word  told  me  everything.     But  listen  to  the  rest  of  the  letter — 

"  '  Treachery  on  the  part  of  one  to  whom  her  life  was  to  be 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  235 

intrusted  is  a  bitter  thing  for  a  girl  to  discover ;  and  yet  I 
could  not  but  excuse  you,  we  are  so  weak  !  Your  letter  touched 
me,  but  you  must  not  write  to  me  again,  the  sight  of  your 
handwriting  gives  me  such  unbearable  pain.  We  are  parted 
forever.  I  was  carried  away  by  your  reasoning ;  it  extinguished 
all  the  harsh  feelings  that  had  risen  up  against  you  in  my  soul. 
I  had  been  so  proud  of  your  truth  !  But  both  of  us  have 
found  my  father's  reasoning  irresistible.  Yes,  Monsieur,  I 
ventured  to  plead  for  you.  I  did  for  you  what  I  have  never 
done  before,  I  overcame  the  greatest  fears  that  I  have  ever 
known,  and  acted  almost  against  my  nature.  Even  now  I 
am  yielding  to  your  entreaties,  and  doing  wrong  for  your  sake, 
in  writing  to  you  without  my  father's  knowledge.  My  mother 
knows  that  I  am  writing  to  you ;  her  indulgence  in  leaving 
me  at  liberty  to  be  alone  with  you  for  a  moment  has  taught 
me  the  depth  of  her  love  for  me,  and  strengthened  my  deter- 
mination to  bow  to  the  decree  of  my  family,  against  which  I 
had  almost  rebelled.  So  I  am  writing  to  you,  Monsieur,  for 
the  first  and  last  time.  You  have  my  full  and  entire  forgiveness 
for  the  troubles  that  you  have  brought  into  my  life.  Yes,  you 
are  right ;  a  first  love  can  never  be  forgotten.  I  am  no  longer 
an  innocent  girl;  and,  as  an  honest  woman,  I  can  never 
marry  another.  What  my  future  will  be,  I  know  not  there- 
fore. Only  you  see.  Monsieur,  that  echoes  of  this  year  that 
you   have   filled   will   never  die  away  in  my  life.     But  I  am 

in  no  way  accusing  you r     "  I  shall  always  be  beloved  !  " 

Why  did  you  write  those  words?  Can  they  bring  peace  to 
the  troubled  soul  of  a  lonely  and  unhappy  girl  ?  Have  you 
not  already  laid  waste  my  future,  giving  me  memories  which 
will  never  cease  to  revisit  me?  Henceforth  I  can  only  give 
myself  to  God,  but  will  He  accept  a  broken  heart?  He  has 
had  some  purpose  to  fulfil  in  sending  these  afflictions  to  me  ; 
doubtless  it  was  His  will  that  I  should  turn  to  Him,  my  only 
refuge  here  below.  Nothing  remains  to  me  here  upon  this 
earth.     You  have  all  a  man's  ambition  wherewith  to  beguile 


236  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

your  sorrows.  I  do  not  say  this  as  a  reproach  ;  it  is  a  sort  of 
religious  consolation.  If  we  both  bear  a  grievous  burden  at 
this  moment,  I  think  that  my  share  of  it  is  the  heavier.  He 
in  whom  I  have  put  my  trust,  and  of  whom  you  can  feel  no 
jealousy,  has  joined  our  lives  together,  and  He  puts  them 
asunder  according  to  his  will,  I  have  seen  that  your  relig- 
ious beliefs  were  not  founded  upon  the  pure  and  living  faith 
which  alone  enables  us  to  bear  our  woes  here  below.  Mon- 
sieur, if  God  will  vouchsafe  to  hear  my  fervent  and  ceaseless 
prayers,  He  will  cause  His  light  to  shine  in  your  soul.  Fare- 
well, you  who  should  have  been  my  guide,  you  whom  once  I 
had  the  right  to  call  "  my  beloved,"  no  one  can  reproach  me 
if  I  pray  for  you  still.  God  orders  our  days  as  it  pleases 
Him.  Perhaps  you  may  be  the  first  whom  He  will  call  to 
himself;  but  if  I  am  left  alone  in  the  world,  then.  Monsieur, 
intrust  the  care  of  the  child  to  me.' 

"  This  letter,  so  full  of  generous  sentiments,  disappointed 
my  hopes,"  Benassis  resumed,  "so  that  at  first  I  could  think 
of  nothing  but  my  misery ;  afterwards  I  welcomed  the  balm 
which,  in  her  forgetfulness  of  self,  she  had  tried  to  pour  into 
my  wounds,  but  in  my  first  depair  I  wrote  to  her  somewhat 
bitterly — 

"'Mademoiselle — that  word  alone  will  tell  you  that  at 
your  bidding  I  renounce  you.  There  is  something  inde- 
scribably sweet  in  obeying  one  we  love,  who  puts  us  to  the  tor- 
ture. You  are  right,  I  acquiesce  in  my  condemnation.  Once 
I  slighted  a  girl's  devotion  ;  it  is  fitting,  therefore,  that  my 
love  should  be  rejected  to-day.  But  I  little  thought  that  my 
punishment  was  to  be  dealt  to  me  by  the  woman  at  whose 
feet  I  had  laid  my  life.  I  never  expected  that  such  harshness, 
perhaps  I  should  say,  such  rigid  virtue,  lurked  in  a  heart  that 
seemed  to  be  so  loving  and  so  tender.  At  this  moment  the 
full  strength  of  my  love  is  revealed  to  me ;  it  has  survived  the 
most  terrible  of  all  trials,  the  scorn  you  have  shown  for  me  by 


THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   COXFESSION.  237 

severing  without  regret  the  ties  that  bound  us.  Farewell  for 
ever.  There  still  remains  to  me  the  proud  humility  of  repent- 
ance :  I  will  find  some  sphere  of  life  where  I  can  expiate  the 
errors  to  which  you,  the  mediator  between  heaven  and  me, 
have  shown  no  mercy.  Perhaps  God  may  be  less  inexorable. 
My  sufferings,  sufferings  full  of  the  thought  of  you,  shall  be 
the  penance  of  a  heart  which  will  never  be  healed,  which 
will  bleed  in  solitude.  For  a  wounded  heart — shadow  and 
silence. 

"  '  No  other  image  of  love  shall  be  engraven  on  my  heart. 
Though  I  am  not  a  woman,  I  feel  as  you  felt,  when  I  said  "  I 
love  you,"  that  it  was  a  vow  for  life.  Yes,  the  words  then 
spoken  in  the  ear  of  "  my  beloved"  were  not  a  lie  ;  you  would 
have  a  right  to  scorn  me  if  I  could  change.  I  shall  never 
cease  to  worship  you  in  my  solitude.  In  spite  of  the  gulf  set 
between  us,  you  will  still  be  the  mainspring  of  all  my  actions, 
and  all  the  virtues  are  inspired  by  penitence  and  love. 
Though  you  have  filled  my  heart  with  bitterness,  I  shall 
never  have  bitter  thoughts  of  you ;  would  it  not  be  an  ill 
beginning  of  the  new  tasks  that  I  have  set  myself  if  I  did  not 
purge  out  all  the  evil  leaven  from  my  soul  ?  Farewell  then  to 
the  one  heart  that  I  love  in  the  world,  a  heart  from  which  I 
am  cast  out.  Never  has  more  feeling  and  more  tenderness 
been  expressed  in  a  farewell,  for  is  it  not  fraught  with  the  life 
and  soul  of  one  who  can   never  hope  again,   and  must  be 

henceforth  as  one  dead? Farewell.     May  peace  be  with 

you,  and  may  all  the  sorrow  of  our  lot  fall  to  me  ? '  " 

Benassis  and  Genestas  looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment 
after  reading  the  two  letters,  each  full  of  sad  thoughts,  of 
which  neither  spoke. 

"  As  you  see,  this  is  only  a  rough  copy  of  my  last  letter," 
said  Benassis  ;  "  it  is  all  that  remains  to  me  to-day  of  my 
blighted  hopes.  When  I  had  sent  the  letter,  I  fell  into  an 
indescribable  state  of  depression.     All  the  ties  that  hold  one 


238  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

to  life  were  bound  together  in  the  hope  of  wedded  happiness, 
which  was  henceforth  lost  to  me  for  ever.  I  had  to  bid  fare- 
well to  the  joys  of  a  permitted  and  acknowledged  love,  to  all 
the  generous  ideas  that  had  thronged  up  from  the  depths  of 
my  heart.  The  prayers  of  a  penitent  soul  that  thirsted  for 
righteousness  and  for  all  things  lovely  and  of  good  report 
had  been  rejected  by  these  religious  people.  At  first,  the 
wildest  resolutions  and  most  frantic  thoughts  surged  through 
my  mind,  but  happily  for  me  the  sight  of  my  son  brought  self- 
control.  I  felt  all  the  more  strongly  drawn  towards  him  for 
the  misfortunes  of  which  he  was  the  innocent  cause,  and  for 
which  I  had  in  reality  only  myself  to  blame.  In  him  I  found 
all  my  consolation. 

"At  the  age  of  thirty-four  I  might  still  hope  to  do  my 
country  noble  service.  I  determined  to  make  a  name  for  my- 
self, a  name  so  illustrious  that  no  one  should  remember  the 
stain  on  the  birth  of  my  son.  How  many  noble  thoughts  I 
owe  to  him  !  How  full  a  life  I  led  in  those  days  while  I  was 
absorbed  in  planning  out  his  future  !  I  feel  stifled,"  cried 
Benassis.    "All  this  happened  eleven  years  ago,  and  yet  to  this 

day  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  that  fatal  year. My  child 

died,  sir  ;  I  lost  him !  " 

The  doctor  was  silent,  and  hid  his  face  in  his  hands :  when 
he  was  somewhat  calmer  he  raised  his  head  again,  and  Genestas 
saw  that  his  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

"At  first  it  seemed  as  if  this  thunderbolt  had  uprooted 
me,"  Benassis'fesumed.  "  It  was  a  blow  from  which  I  could 
only  expect  to  recover  after  I  had  been  transplanted  into  a 
different  soil  from  that  of  the  social  world  in  which  I  lived. 
It  was  not  till  some  time  afterwards  that  I  saw  the  finger  of 
God  in  my  misfortunes,  and  later  still  that  I  learned  to  submit 
to  His  will  and  to  hearken  to  His  voice.  It  was  impossible 
that  resignation  should  come  to  me  all  at  once.  My  im- 
petuous and  fiery  nature  broke  out  in  a  final  storm  of  rebellion. 

**  It  was  long  before  I  brought  myself  to  take  the  only  step 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S  CONFESSION. 


239 


befitting  a  Catholic,  indeed  my  thoughts  ran  on  suicide.  This 
succession  of  misfortunes  had  contributed  to  develop  mel- 
ancholy feelings  in  me,  and  I  deliberately  determined  to  take 
my  own  life.  It  seemed  to  me  that  it  was  permissible  to  take 
leave  of  life  when  life  was  ebbing  fast.  There  was  nothing 
unnatural,  I  thought,  about  suicide.  The  ravages  of  mental 
distress  affected  the  soul  of  man  in  the  same  way  that  acute 
physical  anguish  affected  the  body;  and  an  intelligent  being, 
suffering  from  a  moral  malady,  had  surely  a  right  to  destroy 
himself,  a  right  he  shares  with  the  sheep,  that,  fallen  a  victim 
to  the  *  staggers,'  beats  its  head  against  a  tree.  Were  the  soul's 
diseases  in  truth  more  readily  cured  than  those  of  the  body? 
I  scarcely  think  so,  to  this  day.  Nor  do  I  know  which  is  the 
more  craven  soul — he  who  hopes  even  when  hope  is  no  longer 
possible,  or  he  who  despairs.  Death  is  the  natural  termination 
of  a  physical  malady,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  suicide  was  the 
final  crisis  in  the  sufferings  of  a  mind  diseased,  for  it  was  in 
the  power  of  the  will  to  end  them  when  reason  showed  that 
death  was  preferable  to  life.  So  it  is  not  the  pistol,  but  a 
thought  that  puts  an  end  to  our  existence.  Again,  when  fate 
may  suddenly  lay  us  low  in  the  midst  of  a  happy  life,  can  we 
be  blamed  for  ourselves  refusing  to  bear  a  life  of  misery? 

"But  my  reflections  during  that  time  of  mourning  turned 
on  loftier  themes.  The  grandeur  of  pagan  philosophy  attracted 
me,  and  for  a  while  I  became  a  convert.  In  my  efforts  to  dis- 
cover new  rights  for  man,  I  thought  that  with  the  aid  of 
modern  thought  I  could  penetrate  furtlier  into  the  questions  to 
which  those  old-world  systems  of  philosophy  had  furnished 
solutions. 

"Epicurus  permitted  suicide.  Was  it  not  the  natural  out- 
come of  his  system  of  ethics  ?  The  gratification  of  the 
senses  was  to  be  obtained  at  any  cost ;  and  when  this  became 
impossible,  the  easiest  and  best  course  was  for  the  animate 
being  to  return  to  the  repose  of  inanimate  nature.  Happi- 
ness, or  the  hope  of  happiness,  was  the  one  end  for  which 


240  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

man  existed,  for  one  who  suffered,  and  who  suffered  without 
hope,  death  ceased  to  be  an  evil,  and  became  a  good,  and 
suicide  became  a  final  act  of  wisdom.  This  act  Epicurus 
neither  blamed  nor  praised  ;  he  was  content  to  say  as  he 
poured  a  libation  to  Bacchus,  '  As  for  death,  there  is  nothing 
in  death  to  move  our  laughter  or  our  tears.' 

"  With  a  loftier  morality  than  that  of  the  Epicureans,  and 
a  sterner  sense  of  man's  duties,  Zeno  and  the  Stoic  philoso- 
phers prescribed  suicide  in  certain  cases  to  their  followers. 
They  reasoned  thus :  Man  differs  from  the  brute  in  that  he 
has  the  sovereign  right  to  dispose  of  his  person ;  take  away 
this  power  of  life  and  death  over  himself,  and  he  becomes  the 
plaything  of  fate,  the  slave  of  other  men.  Rightly  under- 
stood, this  power  of  life  and  death  is  a  sufficient  counterpoise 
for  all  the  ills  of  life  ;  the  same  power  when  conferred  upon 
another,  upon  his  fellow-man,  leads  to  tyranny  of  every  kind. 
Man  has  no  power  whatever  unless  he  has  unlimited  freedom 
of  action.  Suppose  that  he  has  been  guilty  of  some  irrepar- 
able error,  from  the  shameful  consequences  of  which  there  is 
no  escape ;  a  sordid  nature  swallows  down  the  disgrace  and 
survives  it,  the  wise  man  drinks  the  hemlock  and  dies.  Sup- 
pose that  the  remainder  of  life  is  to  be  one  constant  struggle 
with  the  gout  which  racks  our  bones,  or  with  a  gnawing  and 
disfiguring  cancer,  the  wise  man  dismisses  quacks,  and  at  the 
proper  moment  bids  a  last  farewell  to  the  friends  whom  he 
only  saddens  by  his  presence.  Or  another  perhaps  has  fallen 
alive  into  the--hands  of  the  tyrant  against  whom  he  fought. 
What  shall  he  do?  The  oath  of  allegiance  is  tendered  to 
him;  he  must  either  subscribe  or  stretch  out  his  neck  to  the 
executioner ;  the  fool  takes  the  latter  course,  the  coward  sub- 
scribes, the  wise  man  strikes  a  last  blow  for  liberty — in  his 
own  heart.  'You  who  are  free,'  the  Stoic  was  wont  to  say, 
'  know  then  how  to  preserve  your  feedom  !  Find  freedom 
from  your  own  passions  by  sacrificing  them  to  duty,  freedom 
from  the  tyranny  of  mankind  by  pointing  to  the  sword  or  the 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S  CONFESSION.  241 

poison  which  will  put  you  beyond  their  reach,  freedom  from 
the  bondage  of  fate  by  determining  the  point  beyond  which 
you  will  endure  it  no  longer,  freedom  of  mind  by  shaking  off 
the  trammels  of  prejudice,  and  freedom  from  physical  fear  by 
learning  how  to  subdue  the  gross  instinct  which  causes  so 
many  wretches  to  cling  to  life.' 

"  After  I  had  unearthed  this  reasoning  from  among  a  heap 
of  ancient  philosophical  writings,  I  sought  to  reconcile  it  with 
Christian  teaching.  God  has  bestowed  free-will  upon  us  in 
order  to  require  of  us  an  account  hereafter  before  the  throne 
of  judgment.  *  I  will  plead  my  cause  there  !  '  I  said  to  my- 
self. But  such  thoughts  as  these  led  me  to  think  of  a  life  after 
death,  and  my  old  shaken  beliefs  rose  up  before  me.  Human 
life  grows  solemn  when  all  eternity  hangs  upon  the  slightest 
of  our  decisions.  When  the  full  meaning  of  this  thought  is 
realized,  the  soul  becomes  conscious  of  something  vast  and 
mysterious  within  itself,  by  which  it  is  drawn  towards  the 
Infinite;  the  aspect  of  all  things  alters  strangely.  From  this 
point  of  view  life  is  something  infinitely  great  and  infinitely 
little.  The  consciousness  of  my  sins  had  never  made  me 
think  of  heaven  so  long  as  hope  remained  to  me  on  earth,  so 
long  as  I  could  find  a  relief  for  my  woes  in  work  and  in  the 
society  of  other  men.  I  had  meant  to  make  the  happiness  of 
a  woman's  life,  to  love,  to  be  the  head  of  a  family,  and  in 
this  way  my  need  of  expiation  would  have  been  satisfied  to 
^he  full.  This  design  had  been  thwarted,  but  yet  another 
way  had  remained  to  me  : 

"  I  would  devote  myself  henceforward  to  my  child.  But 
after  these  two  efforts  had  failed,  and  scorn  and  death  had 
darkened  my  soul  for  ever,  when  all  my  feelings  had  been 
wounded  and  nothing  was  left  to  me  here  on  earth,  I  raised 
my  eyes  to  heaven,  and  beheld  God. 

"Yet  still  I  tried  to  obtain  the  sanction  of  religion  for  my 
death.  I  went  carefully  through  the  Gospels,  and  found  no 
passage  in  which  suicide  was  sanctioned ;  but  during  the  read- 
16 


342  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

ing  the  divine  thought  of  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  men,  dawned 
in  me.  Certainly  He  had  said  nothing  about  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  but  He  had  spoken  of  the  glorious  kingdom  of 
His  Father  ;  He  had  nowhere  sanctioned  parricide,  but  He 
condemned  all  that  was  evil.  The  glory  of  His  evangelists, 
and  the  proof  of  their  divine  mission,  is  not  so  much  that 
they  made  laws  for  the  world,  but  that  they  spread  a  new 
spirit  abroad,  and  the  new  laws  were  filled  with  this  new 
spirit.  The  very  courage  which  a  man  displays  in  taking  his 
own  life  seemed  to  me  to  be  his  condemnation  ;  so  long  as 
he  felt  that  he  had  within  himself  sufficient  strength  to  die  by 
his  own  hands,  he  ought  to  have  had  strength  enough  to  con- 
tinue the  struggle.  To  refuse  to  suffer  is  a  sign  of  weakness 
rather  than  of  courage,  and,  moreover,  was  it  not  a  sort  of 
recusance  to  take  leave  of  life  in  despondency,  an  abjuration 
of  the  Christian  faith  which  is  based  upon  the  sublime  words 
of  Jesus  Christ,  'Blessed  are  they  that  mourn.' 

*'  So,  in  any  case,  suicide  seemed  to  me  to  be  an  unpardon- 
able error,  even  in  the  man  who,  through  a  false  conception 
of  greatness  of  soul,  takes  his  life  a  {^\s  moments  before  the 
executioner's  axe  falls.  In  humbling  himself  to  the  death  of 
the  cross,  did  not  Jesus  Christ  set  for  us  an  example  of  obed- 
ience to  all  human  laws,  even  when  carried  out  unjustly? 
The  word  *  resignation  '  engraved  upon  the  cross,  so  clear  to 
the  eyes  of  those  who  can  read  the  sacred  characters  in  which 
it  is  traced,  shone  for  me  with  divine  brightness. 

**I  still  had  eighty  thousand  francs  in  my  possession,  and  at 
first  I  meant  to  live  a  retired  and  solitary  life,  to  vegetate  in 
some  country  district  for  the  rest  of  my  days ;  but  misanthropy 
is  no  Catholic  virtue,  and  there  is  a  certain  vanity  lurking  be- 
neath the  hedgehog's  skin  of  the  misanthrope.  His  heart 
does  not  bleed,  it  shrivels,  and  my  heart  bled  from  every  vein. 
I  thought  of  the  discipline  of  the  Church,  the  refuge  that  she 
afibrds  to  sorrowing  souls,  understood  at  last  the  beauty  of  a 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR'S   CONFESSION.  243 

life  of  prayer  in  solitude,  and  was  fully  determined  to  '  enter 
religion,'  in  the  grand  old  phrase.  So  far  my  intentions  were 
firmly  fixed,  but  I  had  not  yet  decided  on  the  best  means  of 
carrying  them  out.  I  realized  the  remains  of  my  fortune,  and 
set  forth  on  my  journey  with  an  almost  tranquil  mind.  Peace 
in  God  was  a  hope  that  could  never  fail  me. 

"I  felt  drawn  to  the  rule  of  Saint  Bruno,  and  made  the 
journey  to  the  Grande  Chartreuse  on  foot,  absorbed  in 
solemn  thoughts.  That  was  a  memorable  day.  I  was  not 
prepared  for  the  grandeur  of  the  scenery;  the  workings  of  an 
unknown  power  greater  than  that  of  man  were  visible  at  every 
step,  the  overhanging  crags,  the  precipices  on  either  hand,  the 
stillness  only  broken  by  the  voices  of  tlie  mountain  streams, 
the  sternness  and  wildness  of  the  landscape,  relieved  here  and 
there  by  nature's  fairest  creations,  pine  trees  that  have  stood 
for  centuries,  and  delicate  rock  plants  at  their  feet,  all  com- 
bined to  produce  sober  musings.  There  seemed  to  be  no  end 
to  this  waste  solitude,  shut  in  by  its  lofty  mountain  barriers. 
The  idle  curiosity  of  man  could  scarcely  penetrate  there.  It 
would  be  difficult  to  cross  this  melancholy  desert  of  Saint 
Bruno's  with  a  light  heart. 

"I  saw  the  Grande  Chartreuse.  I  walked  beneath  the 
vaulted  roofs  of  the  ancient  cloisters,  and  heard  in  the  silence 
the  sound  of  the  water  from  the  spring,  falling  drop  by  drop. 
I  entered  a  cell  that  I  might  the  better  realize  my  own  utter 
nothingness,  something  of  the  peace  that  my  predecessor  had 
found  there  seemed  to  pass  into  my  soul.  An  inscription, 
which  in  accordance  with  the  custom  of  the  monastery  he  had 
written  above  his  door,  impressed  and  touched  me  ]  all  the 
precepts  of  the  life  that  I  meant  to  lead  were  there,  summed 
up  in  three  Latin  words — Fuge,  late,  tace.'^ 

Genestas  bent  his  head  as  if  he  understood. 

"My  decision  was  made,"  Benassis  resumed.  "The  cell 
with  its  deal  wainscot,  the  hard  bed,  the  solitude,  all  appealed 
to   my  soul.     The  Carthusians  were   in  the  chapel;  I  went 


244  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

thither  to  join  in  their  prayers,  and  there  my  resolutions 
vanished.  I  do  not  wish  to  criticise  the  Catholic  Church,  I 
am  perfectly  orthodox,  I  believe  in  its  laws  and  in  the  works 
it  prescribes.  But  when  I  heard  the  chanting  and  the  prayers 
of  those  old  men,  dead  to  the  world  and  forgotten  by  the 
world,  I  discerned  an  undercurrent  of  sublime  egoism  in  the 
life  of  the  cloister.  This  withdrawal  from  the  world  could 
only  benefit  the  individual  soul,  and  after  all  what  was  it  but 
a  protracted  suicide  ?  I  do  not  condemn  it.  The  Church 
has  opened  these  tombs  in  which  life  is  buried  ;  no  doubt 
they  are  needful  for  those  few  Christians  who  are  absolutely 
useless  to  the  world  ;  but  for  me,  it  would  be  better,  I 
thought,  to  live  among  my  fellows,  to  devote  my  life  of 
expiation  to  their  service. 

"As  I  returned  I  thought  long  and  carefully  over  the  vari- 
ous ways  in  which  I  could  carry  out  my  vow  of  renunciation. 
Already  I  began,  in  fancy,  to  lead  the  life  of  a  common 
sailor,  condemning  myself  to  serve  our  country  in  the  lowest 
ranks,  and  giving  up  all  my  intellectual  ambitions ;  but 
though  it  was  a  life  of  toil  and  of  self-abnegation,  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  ought  to  do  more  than  this.  Should  I  not 
thwart  the  designs  of  God  by  leading  such  a  life?  If  He  had 
given  me  intellectual  ability,  was  it  not  my  duty  to  employ  it 
for  the  good  of  my  fellow-men  ?  Then,  besides,  if  I  am  to 
speak  frankly,  I  felt  within  me  a  need  of  my  fellow-men,  an 
indescribable  wish  to  help  them.  The  round  of  mechanical 
duties  and  the  routine  tasks  of  the  sailor  afforded  no  scope 
for  this  desire,  which  is  as  much  an  outcome  of  my  nature  as 
the  characteristic  scent  that  a  flower  breathes  forth. 

"  I  was  obliged  to  spend  the  night  here,  as  I  have  already 
told  you.  The  wretched  condition  of  the  countryside  had 
filled  me  with  pity,  and  during  the  night  it  seemed  as  if  these 
thoughts  had  been  sent  to  me  by  God,  and  that  thus  He  had 
revealed  His  will  to  me.  I  had  known  something  of  the  joys 
that  pierce  the  heart,  the  happiness  and  the  sorrow  of  mother- 


THE    COUNTRY  DOCTORS S  CONFESSION.  t\h 

hood  ;  I  determined  that  henceforth  my  life  should  be  filled 
with  these,  but  that  mine  should  be  a  wider  sphere  than  a 
mother's.  I  would  expend  lier  care  and  kindness  on  a  whole 
district ;  I  would  be  a  sister  of  chanty,  and  bind  the  wounds 
of  all  the  suffering  poor  in  a  countryside.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  the  finger  of  God  unmistakably  pointed  out  my  destiny; 
and  when  I  remembered  that  my  first  serious  thoughts  in 
youth  had  inclined  me  to  the  study  of  medicine,  I  resolved 
to  settle  here  as  a  doctor.  Besides,  I  had  another  reason. 
*  For  a  wounded  heart — shadow  and  silence  ;  '  so  I  had  written 
in  my  letter ;  and  I  meant  to  fulfil  the  vow  which  I  had  made 
to  myself. 

"So  I  have  entered  into  the  paths  of  silence  and  submis- 
sion. The  fuge,  late,  tace  of  the  Carthusian  brother  is  my 
motto  here,  my  death  to  the  world  is  the  life  of  this  canton, 
my  prayer  takes  the  form  of  the  active  work  to  which  I  have  set 
my  hand,  and  which  I  love — the  work  of  sowing  the  seeds  of 
happiness  and  joy,  of  giving  to  others  what  I  myself  have  not. 

"  I  have  grown  so  used  to  this  life,  completely  out  of  the 
world  and  among  the  peasants,  that  I  am  thoroughly  trans- 
formed. Even  my  face  is  altered  ;  it  has  been  so  continually 
exposed  to  the  sun  that  it  has  grown  wrinkled  and  weather- 
beaten.  I  have  fallen  into  the  habits  of  the  peasants ;  I  have 
assumed  their  dress,  their  ways  of  talking,  their  gait,  their 
easy-going  negligence,  their  utter  indifference  to  appearances. 
My  old  acquaintances  in  Paris,  or  the  she-coxcombs  on  whom 
I  used  to  dance  attendance,  would  be  puzzled  to  recognize  in 
me  the  man  who  had  a  certain  vogue  in  his  day,  the  sybarite 
accustomed  to  all  the  splendor,  luxury,  and  finery  of  Paris. 
I  have  come  to  be  absolutely  indifferent  to  my  surroundings, 
like  all  those  who  are  possessed  by  one  thought,  and  have 
only  one  object  in  view ;  for  I  have  but  one  aim  in  life — to 
take  leave  of  it  as  soon  as  possible.  I  do  not  want  to  hasten 
my  end  in  any  way  ;  but  some  day,  when  illness  comes,  I 
shall  lie  down  to  die  without  regret. 


246  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"There,  sir,  you  have  the  whole  story  of  my  life  until  I 
came  here — told  in  all  sincerity.  I  have  not  attempted  to 
conceal  any  of  my  errors ;  they  have  been  great,  though 
others  have  erred  as  I  have  erred.  I  have  suffered  greatly, 
and  I  am  suffering  still,  but  I  look  beyond  this  life  to  a  happy 
future  which  can  only  be  reached  through  sorrow.  And  yet, 
for  all  my  resignation,  there  are  moments  when  my  courage 
fails  me.  This  very  day»  I  was  almost  overcome  in  your  pres- 
ence by  inward  anguish  ;  you  did  not  notice  it,  but " 

Genestas  started  in  his  chair. 

"  Yes,  Captain  Bluteau,  you  were  with  me  at  the  time. 
Do  you  remember  how,  while  we  were  putting  little  Jacques 
to  bed,  you  pointed  to  the  mattress  on  which  Mother  Colas 
sleeps  ?  Well,  you  can  imagine  how  painful  it  all  was ;  I  can 
never  see  any  child  without  thinking  of  the  dear  child  I  have 
lost,  and  this  little  one  was  doomed  to  die  !  I  can  never  see 
a  child  with  indifferent  eyes " 

Genestas  turned  pale. 

"Yes,  the  sight  of  the  little  golden  heads,  the  innocent 
beauty  of  children's  faces  always  awakens  memories  of  my 
sorrows,  and  the  old  anguish  returns  afresh.  Now  and  then, 
too,  there  comes  the  intolerable  thought  that  so  many  people 
here  should  thank  me  for  what  little  I  can  do  for  them,  when 
all  that  I  have  done  has  been  prompted  by  remorse.  You 
alone,  captain,  know  the  secret  of  my  life.  If  I  had  drawn 
my  will  to  serve  them  from  some  purer  source  than  the  mem- 
ory of  my  errors,  I  should  be  happy  indeed  !  But  then,  too, 
there  would  have  been  nothing  to  tell  you,  and  no  story  about 
myself." 


V. 

ELEGIES. 

As  Benassis  finished  his  story,  he  was  struck  by  the  troubled 
expression  of  the  officer's  face.  It  touclied  him  to  have  been 
so  well  understood.  He  was  almost  ready  to  reproach  him- 
self for  having  distressed  his  visitor.     He  spoke — 

"But  these  troubles  of  mine,  Captain  Bluteau " 

"  Do  not  call  me  Captain  Bluteau,"  cried  Genestas,  break- 
ing in  upon  the  doctor,  and  springing  to  his  feet  with  sudden 
energy,  a  change  of  position  that  seemed  to  be  prompted  by 
inward  dissatisfaction  of  some  kind.  "  There  is  no  such 
person  as  Captain  Bluteau 1  am  a  scoundrel !  " 

With  no  little  astonishment,  Benassis  beheld  Genestas 
pacing  to  and  fro  in  the  salon,  like  a  bumble-bee  in  quest  of 
an  exit  from  the  room  which  he  has  incautiously  entered. 

"Then  who  are  you,  sir?"  inquired  Benassis. 

"Ah!  there  now,"  the  officer  answered,  as  he  turned  and 
took  his  stand  before  the  doctor,  though  he  lacked  courage  to 
look  at  his  friend.  "  I  have  deceived  you!  "  he  went  on 
(and  there  was  a  change  in  his  voice).  "  I  have  acted  a  lie 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  and  I  am  well  punished  for  it ; 
for  after  this  I  cannot  explain  why  I  came  here  to  play  the 
spy  upon  you,  confound  it !  Ever  since  I  have  had  a  glimpse 
of  your  soul,  so  to  speak,  I  would  far  sooner  have  taken  a  box 
on  the  ear  whenever  I  heard  you  call  me  Captain  Bluteau  ! 
Perhaps  you  may  forgive  me  for  this  subterfuge,  but  I  shall 
never  forgive  mj-self;  I,  Pierre  Joseph  Genestas,  who  would 
not  lie  to  save  my  life  before  a  court-martial !  " 

"Are  you  Commandant  Genestas?"  cried  Benassis,  rising 
to  his  feet.  He  grasped  the  officer's  hand  warmly,  and  added : 
"  As  you  said  but  a  short  time  ago,  sir,  we  were  friends  before 

(247) 


248  THE   COUA'TRY  DOCTOR. 

we  knew  each  other.  I  have  been  very  anxious  to  make  your 
acquaintance,  for  I  have  often  heard  M.  Gravier  speak  of  you. 
He  used  to  call  you  *  one  of  Plutarch's  men.'  " 

"Plutarch?  Nothing  of  the  sort!"  answered  Genestas. 
**  I  am  not  worthy  of  you ;  I  could  thrash  myself.  I  ought  to 
have  told  you  my  secret  in  a  straightforward  way  at  the  first. 
Yet  no !  It  is  quite  as  well  that  I  wore  a  mask,  and  came 
here  myself  in  search  of  information  concerning  you,  for  now 
I  know  that  I  must  hold  my  tongue.  If  I  had  set  about  this 
business  in  the  right  fashion  it  would  have  been  painful  to 
you,  and  God  forbid  that  I  should  give  you  the  slightest 
annoyance." 

"  But  I  do  not  understand  you,  commandant." 

'*  Let  the  matter  drop.  I  am  not  ill ;  I  have  spent  a  pleasant 
day,  and  I  will  go  back  to-morrow.  Whenever  you  come  to 
Grenoble,  you  will  find  that  you  have  one  more  friend  there, 
who  will  be  your  friend  through  thick  and  thin.  Pierre 
Joseph  Genestas'  sword  and  purse  are  at  your  disposal,  and  I 
am  yours  to  the  last  drop  of  my  blood.  Well,  after  all,  your 
words  have  fallen  on  good  soil.  When  I  am  pensioned  off,  I 
will  look  for  some  out-of-the-way  little  place,  and  be  mayor  of 
it,  and  try  to  follow  your  example.  I  have  not  your  knowl- 
edge, but  I  will  study  at  any  rate." 

"  You  are  right,  sir;  the  landowner  who  spends  his  time  in 
convincing  a  commune  of  the  folly  of  some  mistaken  notion 
of  agriculture  confers  upon  his  country  a  benefit  quite  as  great 
as  any  that  the  most  skilful  physician  can  bestow.  The  latter 
lessens  the  sufferings  of  some  few  individuals,  and  the  former 
heals  the  wounds  of  his  country.  But  you  have  excited  my 
curiosity  to  no  common  degree.  Is  there  really  something  in 
which  I  can  be  of  use  to  you  ?  " 

"Of  use?"  repeated  the  commandant  in  an  altered  voice. 
'^ Mon  Dieu  !  I  was  about  to  ask  you  to  do  me  a  service  whicli 
is  all  but  impossible,  M.  Benassis.  Just  listen  a  moment  !  I 
have  killed  a  good  many  Christians  in   my  time,  it  is  true ; 


ELEGIES.  2-19 

but  you  may  kill  people  and  keep  a  good  heart  for  all  that ; 
so  there  are  some  things  that  I  can  feel  and  understand,  rough 
as  I  look." 

"But  go  on  !  " 

**  No,  I  do  not  want  to  give  you  any  pain  if  I  can  help  it." 

"Oh  !  commandant,  I  can  bear  a  great  deal." 

"It  is  a  question  of  a  child's  life,  sir,"  said  the  officer, 
nervously. 

Benassis  suddenly  knitted  his  brows,  but  by  a  gesture  he 
entreated  Genestas  to  continue. 

"A  child,"  repeated  the  commandant,  ''  whose  life  may  yet 
be  saved  by  constant  watchfulness  and  incessant  care.  Where 
could  I  expect  to  find  a  doctor  capable  of  devoting  himself  to 
a  single  patient  ?  Not  in  a  town,  that  much  is  certain.  I  had 
heard  you  spoken  of  as  an  excellent  man,  but  I  wished  to  be 
quite  sure  that  this  reputation  was  well  founded.  So  before 
putting  my  little  charge  into  the  hands  of  this  M.  Benassis  of 
whom  people  spoke  so  highly,  I  wanted  to  study  him  myself. 
But  now " 

"Enough,"  said  the  doctor;  "so  this  child  is  yours?  " 

"  No,  no,  M.  Benassis.  To  clear  up  the  mystery,  I  should 
have  to  tell  you  a  long  story,  in  which  I  do  not  exactly  play 
the  part  of  a  hero;  but  you  have  given  me  your  confidence, 
and  I  can  readily  give  you  mine" 

"One  moment,  commandant,"  said  the  doctor.  In  answer 
to  his  summons,  Jacquotte  appeared  at  once,  and  her  master 
ordered  tea.      "You  see,  commandant,  at  night  when  every 

one   is   sleeping,   I   do    not   sleep. The   thought    of    my 

troubles  lies  heavily  on  me,  and  then  I  try  to  forget  them  by 
taking  tea.  It  produces  a  sort  of  nervous  inebriation — a  kind 
of  slumber,  without  which  I  could  not  live.  Do  you  still  de- 
cline to  take  it?" 

"For  my  own  part,"  said  Genestas,  "I  prefer  your  Her- 
mitage." 

"  By  all  means.     Jacquotte,"  said  Benassis,  turning  to  his 


250  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

housekeeper,  "  bring  in  some  wine  and  biscuits.  We  will 
both  of  us  have  our  night-cap  after  our  separate  fashions." 

*'  That  tea  must  be  very  bad  for  you  !  "  Genestas  remarked. 

"  It  brings  on  horrid  attacks  of  gout,  but  I  cannot  break 
myself  of  the  habit,  it  is  too  soothing ;  it  procures  for  me  a 
brief  respite  every  night,  a  few  moments  during  which  life 

becomes  less  of  a  burden Come.    I  am  listening ;  perhaps 

your  story  will  efface  the  painful  impressions  left  by  the  mem- 
ories that  I  have  just  recalled." 

Genestas  set  down  his  empty  glass  upon  the  chimney-piece. 
"After  the  retreat  from  Moscow,"  he  said,  "my  regiment 
was  stationed  to  recrutt  for  a  while  in  a  little  town  in  Poland. 
We  were  quartered  there,  in  fact,  till  the  Emperor  returned, 
and  we  bought  up  horses  at  long  prices.  So  far  so  good.  I 
ought  to  say  that  I  had  a  friend  in  those  days.  More  than 
once  during  the  retreat  I  had  owed  my  life  to  him.  He  was 
a  quartermaster,  Renard  by  name ;  we  could  not  but  be  like 
brothers  (military  discipline  apart)  after  what  he  had  done  for 
me.  They  billeted  us  on  the  same  house,  a  sort  of  shanty,  a 
rat-hole  of  a  place  where  a  whole  family  lived,  though  you 
would  not  have  thought  there  was  room  to  stable  a  horse. 
This  particular  hovel  belonged  to  some  Jews  who  carried  on 
their  six-and-thirty  trades  in  it.  The  frost  had  not  so  stiffened 
the  old  father  Jew's  fingers  but  that  he  could  count  gold  fast 
enough ;  he  had  thriven  uncommonly  during  our  reverses. 
That  sort  of  gentry  lives  in  squalor  and  dies  in  gold. 

"  There  were  cellars  underneath  (lined  with  wood  of  course, 
the  whole  house  was  built  of  wood) ;  they  had  stowed  their 
children  away  down  there,  and  one  more  particularly,  a  girl 
of  seventeen,  as  handsome  as  a  Jewess  can  be  when  she  keeps 
herself  tidy  and  has  not  fair  hair.  She  was  as  white  as  snow, 
she  had  eyes  like  velvet,  and  dark  lashes  to  them  like  rats' 
tails ;  her  hair  was  so  thick  and  glossy  that  it  made  you  long 
to  stroke  it.  She  was  perfection  and  nothing  less  !  I  was  the 
first  to  discover  this  curious  arrangement.     I  was  walking  up 


ELEGIES.  2-:i 


and  down  outside  one  evening,  smoking  my  pipe,  after  they 
thought  I  had  gone  to  bed.  The  children  came  in  helter-skelter, 
tumbling  over  one  another  like  so  many  puppies.  It  was  fun 
to  watch  them.  Then  they  had  supper  with  their  father  and 
mother.  I  strained  my  eyes  to  see  the  young  Jewess  through 
the  clouds  of  smoke  that  her  father  blew  from  his  pipe;  she 
looked  like  a  new  gold-piece  among  a  lot  of  copper  coins. 

"I  had  never  reflected  about  love,  my  dear  Benassis,  I  had 
never  had  time ;  but  now  at  the  sight  of  this  young  girl  I  lost 
my  heart  and  head  and  everything  else  at  once,  and  then  it  was 
plain  to  me  that  I  had  never  been  in  love  before.  I  was  hard 
hit,  and  over  head  and  ears  in  love.  There  I  stayed  smoking 
my  pipe,  absorbed  in  watching  the  Jewess  until  she  blew  out 
the  candle  and  went  to  bed.  I  could  not  close  my  eyes.  The 
whole  night  long  I  walked  up  and  down  the  street  smoking 
my  pipe  and  refilling  it  from  time  to  time.  I  had  never  felt 
like  that  before,  and  for  the  first  and  last  time  in  my  life  I 
thought  of  marrying. 

"At  daybreak  I  saddled  my  horse  and  rode  out  in  the 
country,  to  clear  my  head.  I  kept  him  at  a  trot  for  two 
mortal  hours,  and  all  but  foundered  the  animal  before  I 
noticed  it " 

Genestas  stopped  short,  looked  at  his  new  friend  uneasily, 
and  said,  "You  must  excuse  me,  Benassis,  I  am  no  orator; 
things  come  out  just  as  they  turn  up  in  my  mind.  In  a  room 
full  of  fine  folk  I  should  feel  awkward,  but  here  in  the  country 
with  you " 

"Go  on,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  When  I  came  back  to  my  room  I  found  Renard  finely 
flustered.  He  thought  I  had  fallen  in  a  duel.  He  was  clean- 
ing his  pistols,  his  head  full  of  schemes  for  fastening  a  quar- 
rel  on   any  one  who   should    have  turned   me  off   into  liie 

dark Oh  !  that  was  just  the  fellow's  way  !     I  confided  my 

story  to  Renard,  showed  him  the  kennel  where  the  children 
were ;  and,  as  my  comrade  understood  the  jargon  that  those 


252  THE   COLNTRY  DOCTOR. 

heathens  talked,  I  begged  him  to  help  me  to  lay  my  proposals 
before  her  father  and  mother,  and  to  try  to  arrange  some  kind 
of  communication  between  me  and  Judith.  Judith  they 
called  her.  In  short,  sir,  for  a  fortnight  the  Jew  and  his  wife 
so  arranged  matters  that  we  supped  every  night  with  Judith, 
and  for  a  fortnight  I  was  the  happiest  of  men.  You  under- 
stand and  you  know  how  it  was,  so  I  shall  not  wear  out  your 
patience  ;  still,  if  you  do  not  smoke,  you  cannot  imagine  how 
pleasant  it  was  to  smoke  a  pipe  at  one's  ease  with  Renard  and 
the  girl's  father  and  one's  princess  there  before  one's  eyes. 
Oh  !  yes,  it  was  very  pleasant ! 

"But  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  Renard  was  a  Parisian,  and 
depended  on  his  father,  a  wholesale  grocer,  who  had  educated 
his  son  with  a  view  to  making  a  notary  of  him  ;  so  Renard 
had  come  by  a  certain  amount  of  book  learning  before  he  had 
been  drawn  by  the  conscription  and  had  to  bid  his  desk  good- 
bye. Add  to  this  that  he  was  the  kind  of  man  who  looks  well 
in  a  uniform,  with  a  face  like  a  girl's,  and  a  thorough  know^l- 
edge  of  the  art  of  wheedling  people.  It  was  he  whom  Judith 
loved ;  she  cared  about  as  much  for  me  as  a  horse  cares  for 
roast  fowls.  Whilst  I  was  in  the  seventh  heaven,  soaring 
above  the  clouds  at  the  bare  sight  of  Judith,  my  friend  Renard 
(who,  as  you  see,  fairly  deserved  his  name)  was  making  a  way 
for  himself  underground.  The  traitor  arrived  at  an  under- 
standing with  the  girl,  and  to  such  good  purpose  that  they 
were  married  forthwith  after  the  custom  of  her  country,  with- 
out waiting  for  permission,  which  would  have  been  too  long 
in  coming.  He  promised  her,  however,  that  if  it  should 
happen  that  the  validity  of  this  marriage  was  afterwards  called 
in  question,  they  were  to  be  married  again  according  to 
French  law.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  as  soon  as  she  reached 
France,  Mme.  Renard  became  Mile.  Judith  once  more. 

"  If  I  had  known  all  this,  I  would  have  killed  Renard  then 
and  there,  without  giving  him  time  to  draw  another  breath ; 
but  the  father,  the  mother,  the  girl  herself,  and  the  quarter- 


ELEGIES.  253 

master  were  all  in  the  plot  like  thieves  in  a  fair.  While  I  was 
smoking  my  pipe,  and  worshiping  Judith  as  if  she  had  been 
one  of  the  saints  above,  the  worthy  Renard  was  arranging  to 
meet  her,  and  managing  this  piece  of  business  very  cleverly 
under  my  very  eyes. 

"  You  are  the  only  person  to  whom  I  have  told  this  story. 
A  disgraceful  thing,  I  call  it.  I  have  always  asked  myself  how 
it  is  that  a  man  who  would  die  of  shame  if  he  took  a  gold  coin 
that  did  not  belong  to  him,  does  not  scruple  to  rob  a  friend 
of  happiness  and  life  and  the  woman  he  loves.  My  birds,  in 
fact,  were  married  and  happy ;  and  there  was  I,  every  evening 
at  supper,  moonstruck,  gazing  at  Judith,  responding  like  some 
fellow  in  a  farce  to  the  looks  she  threw  at  me  in  order  to  throw 
dust  in  my  eyes.  They  have  paid  uncoumionly  dear  for  all 
this  deceit,  as  you  will  certainly  think.  On  my  conscience, 
God  pays  more  attention  to  what  goes  on  in  this  world  than 
some  of  us  imagine. 

**  Down  come  the  Russians  upon  us,  the  country  is  overrun, 
and  the  campaign  of  1S13  begins  in  earnest.  One  fine  morn- 
ing comes  an  order ;  we  are  to  be  on  the  battlefield  of  Liitzen 
by  a  stated  hour.  The  Emperor  knew  quite  well  what  he  was 
about  when  he  ordered  us  to  start  at  once.  The  Russians  had 
turned  our  flank.  Our  colonel  must  needs  get  himself  into  a 
scrape,  by  choosing  that  moment  to  take  leave  of  a  Polish 
lady  who  lived  outside  the  town,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away; 
the  Cossack  advanced  guard  just  caught  him  nicely,  him  and 
his  picket.  There  was  scarcely  time  to  spring  into  our  saddles 
and  draw  up  before  the  town  so  as  to  engage  in  a  cavalry 
skirmish.  We  must  check  the  Russian  advance  if  we  meant 
to  draw  oflF  during  the  night.  Again  and  again  we  charged, 
and  for  three  hours  we  did  wonders.  Under  cover  of  the 
fighting  the  baggage  and  artillery  set  out.  We  had  a  park  of 
artillery  and  great  stores  of  powder,  of  which  the  Emperor 
stood  in  desperate  need ;  they  must  reach  him  at  all  costs. 

"  Our  resistance  deceived  the  Russians,  who  thought  at  first 


254  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

that  we  were  supported  by  an  army  corps ;  but  before  very 
long  they  learned  their  error  from  their  scouts,  and  knew  that 
they  had  only  a  single  regiment  of  cavalry  to  deal  with  and 
the  invalided  foot  soldiers  in  the  depot.  On  finding  it  out, 
sir,  they  made  a  murderous  onslaught  on  us  towards  evening; 
the  action  was  so  hot  that  a  goodly  number  of  us  were  left  on 
the  field.  We  were  completely  surrounded.  I  was  by 
Renard's  side  in  the  front  rank,  and  I  saw  how  my  friend 
fought  and  charged  like  a  demon  ;  he  was  thinking  of  his 
wife.  Thanks  to  him,  we  managed  to  regain  the  town,  which 
our  invalids  had  put  more  or  less  in  a  state  of  defence,  but  it 
was  pitiful  to  see  it.  We  were  the  last  to  return — he  and  I. 
A  body  of  Cossacks  appeared  in  our  way,  and  on  this  we  rode 
in  hot  haste.  One  of  the  savages  was  about  to  run  me  through 
with  a  lance,  when  Renard,  catching  a  sight  of  his  manoeuvre, 
thrust  his  horse  between  us  to  turn  aside  the  blow ;  his  poor 
brute,  a  fine  animal  it  was  upon  my  word,  received  the  lance- 
thrust  and  fell,  bringing  down  both  Renard  and  the  Cossack 
with  him.  I  killed  the  Cossack,  seized  Renard  by  the  arm, 
and  laid  him  crosswise  before  me  on  my  horse  like  a  sack  of 
wheat. 

"'Good-bye,  captain,'  Renard  said;  'it  is  all  over  with 
me.' 

"'Not  yet,'  I  answered;  'I  must  have  a  look  at  you.' 
We  had  reached  the  town  by  that  time;  I  dismounted,  and 
propped  him  up  on  a  little  straw  by  the  corner  of  a  house.  A 
bad  wound  in  the  head  had  laid  open  the  brain,  and  yet  he 
spoke  ! Oh  !  he  was  a  brave  man. 

"  '  We  are  quits,'  he  said.  *  I  have  given  you  my  life,  and 
I  had  taken  Judith  from  you.  Take  care  of  her  and  of  her 
child,  if  she  has  one.  And  not  only  so — you  must  marry 
her.' 

"  I  left  him  then  and  there,  sir,  like  a  dog ;  when  the 
first  fury  of  anger  left  me,  and  I  went  back  again  —  he 
was  dead.     The  Cossacks  had  set  fire  to  the  town,  and  the 


.is>N 


/    TOOK    HER    UP    BEHIND    ME     IN    THE   SADDLE 


ELEGIES.  255 

thought  of  Judith  then  came  to  my  mind.  I  went  in  search 
of  her,  took  her  up  behind  me  in  the  saddle,  and,  thanks  to 
my  swift  horse,  caught  up  the  regiment  which  was  effecting  its 
retreat.  As  for  the  Jew  and  his  family,  there  was  not  one  of 
them  left,  they  had  all  disappeared  like  rats ;  there  was  no  one 
but  Judith  in  the  house,  waiting  alone  there  for  Renard.  At 
first,  as  you  can  understand,  I  told  her  not  a  word  of  all  that 
had  happened. 

"So  it  befell  that  all  through  the  disastrous  campaign  of 
1 813  I  had  a  woman  to  look  after,  to  find  quarters  for  her,  and 
to  see  that  she  was  comfortable.  She  scarcely  knew,  I  think, 
the  straits  to  which  we  were  reduced.  I  was  always  careful  to 
keep  her  ten  leagues  ahead  of  us  as  we  drew  back  towards 
France.  Her  boy  was  born  while  we  were  fighting  at  Hanau. 
I  was  wounded  in  the  engagement,  and  only  rejoined 
Judith  at  Strasburg;  then  I  returned  to  Paris,  for,  unluckily, 
I  was  laid  up  all  through  the  campaign  in  France.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  that  wretched  mishap,  I  should  have  entered  the 
Grenadier  Guards,  and  then  the  Emperor  would  have  pro- 
moted me.  As  it  was,  sir,  I  had  three  broken  ribs  and  another 
man's  wife  and  child  to  support !  My  pay,  as  you  can  imag- 
ine, was  not  exactly  the  wealth  of  the  Indies.  Renard's 
father,  the  toothless  old  shark,  would  have  nothing  to  say  to 
his  daughter-in-law;  and  the  old  father  Jew  had  made  off. 
Judith  was  fretting  herself  to  death.  She  cried  one  morning 
while  she  was  dressing  my  wound. 

**  'Judith,'  I  said,  '  your  child  has  nothing  whatever  in  this 

world ' 

"  •  Neither  have  I !  '  she  said. 

•'  'Pshaw  ! '  I  answered,  '  we  will  send  for  all  the  necessary 
papers,  I  will  marry  you  ;  and  as  for  his  child,  I  will  look  on 
him  as  mine '     I  could  not  say  any  more. 

"Ah,  my  dear  sir,  what  would  not  one  do  for  the  look  by 
which  Judith  thanked  me— a  look  of  thanks  from  dying  eyes; 
I  saw  clearly  that  I  had  loved  and  should  love  her  always, 


256  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

and  from  that  day  her  child  found  a  place  in  my  heart.  She 
died,  poor  woman,  while  the  father  and  mother  Jews  and  the 
papers  were  on  the  way.  The  day  before  she  died,  she  found 
strength  enough  to  rise  and  dress  herself  for  her  wedding,  to  go 
through  all  the  usual  performance,  and  set  her  name  to  their 
pack  of  papers  ;  then,  when  her  child  had  a  name  and  a  father, 
she  went  back  to  her  bed  again  ;  I  kissed  her  hands  and  her 
forehead,  and  she  died. 

"That  was  ray  wedding.  Two  days  later,  when  I  had 
bought  the  few  feet  of  earth  in  which  the  poor  girl  is  laid,  I 
found  myself  the  father  of  an  orphan  child.  I  put  him  out  to 
nurse  during  the  campaign  of  1815.  Ever  since  that  time, 
without  letting  any  one  know  my  story,  which  did  not  sound 
very  well,  I  have  looked  after  the  little  rogue  as  if  he  were  my 
own  child.  I  don't  know  what  became  of  his  grandfather; 
he  is  wandering  about,  a  ruined  man,  somewhere  or  other 
between  Russia  and  Persia.  The  chances  are  that  he  may 
make  a  fortune  some  day,  for  he  seemed  to  understand  the 
trade  in  precious  stones. 

"I  sent  the  child  to  school.  I  wanted  him  to  take  a  good 
place  at  the  Ecole  Polytechnique  and  to  see  him  graduate 
there  with  credit,  so  of  late  I  have  had  him  drilled  in  mathe- 
matics to  such  good  purpose  that  the  poor  little  soul  has  been 
knocked  up  by  it.  He  has  a  delicate  chest.  By  all  I  can 
make  out  from  the  doctors  in  Paris,  there  would  be  some  hope 
for  him  still  if  he  were  allowed  to  run  wild  among  the  hills, 
if  he  was  properly  cared  for,  and  constantly  looked  after  by 
somebody  who  was  willing  to  undertake  the  task.  So  I 
thought  of  you,  and  I  came  here  to  take  stock  of  your  ideas 
and  your  ways  of  life.  After  what  you  have  told  me,  I  could 
not  possibly  cause  you  pain  in  this  way,  for  we  are  good 
friends  already." 

"Commandant,"  said  Benassis  after  a  moment's  pause, 
"  bring  Judith's  child  here  to  me.  It  is  doubtless  God's  will 
to  submit  me  to  this  final  trial,  and  I  will  endure  it.     I  will 


ELEGIES.  257 

offer  up  these  sufferings  to  God,  whose  Son  died  upon  ihe 
cross.  Besides,  your  story  has  awakened  tender  feelings; 
does  not  that  augur  well  for  me  ?  " 

Genestas  took  both  of  Benassis'  hands  and  pressed  them 
warmly,  unable  to  check  the  tears  that  filled  his  eyes  and 
coursed  down  his  sunburnt  face. 

"  Let  us  keep  silence  with  regard  to  all  this,"  he  said. 

"Yes,  commandant.     You  are  not  drinking  ?  " 

*'  I  am  not  thirsty,"  Genestas  answered.  "  I  am  a  perfect 
fool  !  " 

"Well,  when  will  you  bring  him  to  me?" 

"Why,  to-morrow,  if  you  will  let  me.  He  has  been  at 
Grenoble  these  two  days." 

"  Good  !  Set  out  to-morrow  morning  and  come  back  again. 
I  shall  wait  for  you  in  La  Fosseuse's  cottage,  and  we  will  all 
four  of  us  breakfast  there  together." 

"Agreed,"  said  Genestas,  and  the  two  friends  as  they  went 
upstairs  bade  each  other  good-night.  When  they  reached  the 
landing  that  lay  between  their  rooms,  Genestas  set  down  his 
candle  on  the  window  ledge  and  turned  towards  Benassis. 

"God's  thunder!"  he  said,  with  outspoken  enthusiasm; 
"I  cannot  let  you  go  without  telling  you  that  you  are  the 
third  among  christened  men  to  make  me  understand  that  there 
is  something  up  there,"  and  he  pointed  to  the  sky. 

The  doctor's  answer  was  a  smile  full  of  sadness  and  a  cor- 
dial grasp  of  the  hand  that  Genestas  held  out  to  him. 

Before  daybreak  next  morning  Commandant  Genestas  was 
on  his  way.  On  his  return,  it  was  noon  before  he  reached  the 
spot  on  the  high  road  between  Grenoble  and  the  little  town, 
where  the  pathway  turned  that  led  to  La  Fosseuse's  cottage. 
He  was  seated  in  one  of  the  light  open  cars  with  four  wheels, 
drawn  by  one  horse,  that  are  in  use  everywhere  on  the  roads 
in  these  hilly  districts.  Genestas'  companion  was  a  thin, 
delicate-looking  lad,  apparently  about  twelve  years  of  age, 
17 


258  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

though  in  reality  he  was  in  his  sixteenth  year.  Before  alight- 
ing, the  officer  looked  round  about  him  in  several  directions 
in  search  of  a  peasant  who  would  take  the  carriage  back  to 
Benassis'  house.  It  was  impossible  to  drive  to  La  Fosseuse's 
cottage,  the  pathway  was  too  narrow.  The  park-keeper  hap- 
pened to  appear  upon  the  scene,  and  helped  Genestas  out  of 
his  difficulty,  so  that  the  officer  and  his  adopted  son  were  at 
liberty  to  follow  the  mountain  footpath  that  led  to  the  tryst- 
ing-place. 

"  Would  you  not  enjoy  spending  a  year  in  running  about  in 
this  lovely  country,  Adrien  ?  Learning  to  hunt  and  to  ride  a 
horse,  instead  of  growing  pale  over  your  books  ?  Stay  !  look 
there  !  " 

Adrien  obediently  glanced  over  the  valley  with  languid 
indifference ;  like  all  lads  of  his  age,  he  cared  nothing  for  the 
beauty  of  natural  scenery;  so  he  only  said,  "You  are  very 
kind,  father,"  without  checking  his  walk. 

The  invalid  listlessness  of  this  answer  went  to  Genestas' 
heart ;  he  said  no  more  to  his  son,  and  they  reached  La  Fos- 
seuse's house  in  silence. 

"You  are  punctual,  commandant!  "  cried  Benassis,  rising 
from  the  wooden  bench  where  he  was  sitting. 

But  at  the  sight  of  Adrien  he  sat  down  again,  and  seemed 
for  a  while  to  be  lost  in  thought.  In  a  leisurely  fashion  he 
scanned  the  lad's  sallow,  weary  face,  not  without  admiring  its 
delicate  oval  outlines,  one  of  the  most  noticeable  character- 
istics of  a  noble  head.  The  lad  was  the  living  image  of  his 
mother.  He  had  her  olive  complexion,  beautiful  black  eyes 
with  a  sad  and  thoughtful  expression  in  them,  long  hair,  a 
head  too  energetic  for  the  fragile  body ;  all  the  peculiar 
beauty  of  the  Polish  Jewess  had  been  transmitted  to  her  son. 

"  Do  you  sleep  soundly,  my  little  man  ?  "  Benassis  asked 
him. 

"Yes,  sir." 

*'  Let  me  see  your  knees  ;  turn  back  your  trousers.** 


ELEGIES.  259 

Adrien  reddened,  unfastened  his  garters,  and  showed  his 
knees  to  the  doctor,  who  felt  them  carefully  over. 

"Good.  Now  speak;  shout,  shout  as  loud  as  you  can." 
Adrien  obeyed, 

"That  will  do.     Now  give  me  your  hands." 

The  lad  held  them  out ;  white,  soft,  and  blue-veined  hands, 
like  those  of  a  woman. 

"  Where  were  you  at  school  in  Paris?  " 

"  At  Saint  Louis." 

*'  Did  your  master  read  his  breviary  during  the  night?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  So  you  did  not  go  straight  off  to  sleep  ?  " 

As  Adrien  made  no  answer  to  this,  Genestas  spoke.  "  The 
master  is  a  worthy  priest ;  he  advised  me  to  take  my  little 
rascal  away  on  the  score  of  his  health,"  he  told  the  doctor. 

"Well,"  answered  Benassis,  with  a  clear  penetrating  gaze 
into  Adrien's  frightened  eyes,  "  there  is  a  good  chance.  Oh, 
we  shall  make  a  man  of  him  yet.  We  will  live  together  like 
a  pair  of  comrades,  my  boy  !  We  will  keep  early  hours.  I 
mean  to  show  this  boy  of  yours  how  to  ride  a  horse,  comman- 
dant. He  shall  be  put  on  a  milk  diet  for  a  month  or  two,  so 
as  to  get  his  digestion  into  order  again,  and  then  I  will  take 
out  a  shooting  license  for  him,  and  put  him  in  Butifer's 
hands,  and  the  two  of  them  shall  have  some  chamois  hunting. 
Give  your  son  four  or  five  months  of  outdoor  life,  and  you 
will  not  know  him  again,  commandant  !  How  delighted 
Butifer  will  be  !  I  know  the  fellow  ;  he  will  take  you  over 
into  Switzerland,  my  young  friend  ;  haul  you  over  the  Alpine 
passes  and  up  the  mountain  peaks,  and  add  six  inches  to  your 
height  in  six  months ;  he  will  put  some  color  into  your  cheeks 
and  brace  your  nerves,  and  make  you  forget  all  these  bad  ways 
that  you  have  fallen  into  at  school.  And  after  that  you  can 
go  back  to  your  work  ;  and  you  will  be  a  man  some  of  these 
days.  Butifer  is  an  honest  young  fellow.  We  can  trust  him 
with  the  money  necessary  for  traveling  expenses  and  your 


260  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

hunting  expeditions.  The  responsibility  will  keep  him  steady 
for  six  months,  and  that  will  be  a  very  good  thing  for  him." 

Genestas'  face  brightened  more  and  more  at  every  word 
the  doctor  spoke. 

"  Now,  let  us  go  in  to  breakfast.  La  Fosseuse  is  very  anx- 
ious to  see  you,"  said  Benassis,  giving  Adrien  a  gentle  tap  on 
the  cheek. 

Genestas  took  the  doctor's  arm  and  drew  him  a  little  aside. 
"  Then  he  is  not  consumptive  after  all?  "  he  asked. 

"  No  more  than  you  or  I." 

"  Then  what  is  the  matter  with  him?  " 

"Pshaw!  "  answered  Benassis;  "he  is  a  little  rundown, 
that  is  all." 

La  Fosseuse  appeared  on  the  threshold  of  the  door;  and 
Genestas  noticed,  not  without  surprise,  her  simple  but  coquet- 
tish costume.  This  was  not  the  peasant  girl  of  yesterday 
evening,  but  a  graceful  and  well-dressed  Parisian  woman, 
against  whose  glances  he  felt  that  he  was  not  proof.  The 
soldier  turned  his  eyes  on  the  table,  which  was  made  of  walnut 
wood.  There  was  no  table-cloth,  but  the  surface  might  have 
been  varnished,  it  was  so  well  rubbed  and  polished.  Eggs, 
butter,  a  rice  pudding,  and  fragrant  wild  strawberries  had 
been  set  out,  and  the  poor  child  had  put  flowers  everywhere 
about  the  room ;  evidently  it  was  a  great  day  for  her.  At  the 
sight  of  all  this,  the  commandant  could  not  help  looking 
enviously  at  the  little  house  and  the  green  sward  about  it,  and 
watched  the  peasant  girl  with  an  air  that  expressed  both  his 
doubts  and  his  hopes.  Then  his  eyes  fell  on  Adrien,  with 
whom  La  Fosseuse  was  deliberately  busying  herself,  and  hand- 
ing him  the  eggs. 

"Now,  commandant,"  said  Benassis,  "you  know  the  terms 
on  which  you  are  receiving  hospitality.  You  must  tell  La 
Fosseuse  *  something  about  the  army.'  " 

"  But  let  the  gentleman  first  have  his  breakfast  in  peace, 
and  then,  after  he  has  taken  a  cup  of  coffee " 


ELEGIES.  261 

"By  all  means,  I  shall  be  very  glad,"  answered  the  com- 
mandant; "  but  it  must  be  upon  one  condition,  you  will  tell 
us  the  story  of  some  adventure  in  your  past  life,  will  you  not, 
mademoiselle  ? ' ' 

"Why,  nothing  worth  telling  has  ever  happened  to  me, 
sir,"  she  answered,  as  her  color  rose.  "  Will  you  take  a  little 
more  rice  pudding?"  she  added,  as  she  saw  that  Adrien's 
plate  was  empty. 

"  If  you  please,  mademoiselle." 

"The  pudding  is  delicious,"  said  Genestas. 

"Then  what  will  you  say  to  her  coffee  and  cream  ?  "  cried 
Benassis. 

"  I  would  rather  hear  our  pretty  hostess  talk." 

"You  did  not  put  that  nicely,  Genestas,"  said  Benassis. 
He  took  La  Fosseuse's  hand  in  his  and  pressed  it  as  he  went 
on:  "Listen,  my  child  ;  there  is  a  kind  heart  hidden  away 
beneath  that  officer's  stern  exterior,  and  you  can  talk  freely 
before  him.  We  do  not  want  to  press  you  to  talk,  do  not 
tell  us  anything  unless  you  like;  but  if  ever  you  can  be 
listened  to  and  understood,  poor  little  one,  it  will  be  by  the 
three  who  are  with  you  now  at  this  moment.  Tell  us  all 
about  your  love  affairs  in  the  old  days,  that  will  not  admit  us 
into  any  of  the  real  secrets  of  your  heart." 

"Here  is  Mariette  with  the  coffee,"  she  answered,  "and 
as  soon  as  you  are  all  served,  I  will  tell  about  my  '  love 
aflfairs '  very  willingly.  But  M.  le  Commandant  will  not  for- 
get his  promise?"  she  added,  challenging  the  officer  with  a 
shy  glance. 

"That  would  be  impossible,  mademoiselle,"  Genestas  an- 
swered respectfully. 

"When  I  was  sixteen  years  old,"  La  Fosseuse  began,  "I 
had  to  beg  my  bread  on  the  roadside  in  Savoy,  though  my 
health  was  very  bad.  I  used  to  sleep  at  Echelles,  in  a  manger 
full  of  straw.  The  innkeeper  who  gave  me  shelter  was  kind, 
but  his  wife  could  not  abide  me,  and  was  always  saying  hard 


262  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

things.  I  used  to  feel  very  miserable ;  for  although  I  was  a 
beggar,  I  was  not  a  naughty  child ;  I  used  to  say  my  prayers 
every  night  and  morning,  I  never  stole  anything,  and  I  did 
as  heaven  bade  me  in  begging  for  my  living,  for  there  was 
nothing  that  I  could  turn  my  hands  to,  and  I  was  really  unfit 
for  work — quite  unable  to  handle  a  hoe  or  to  wind  spools  of 
cotton. 

"Well,  they  drove  me  away  from  the  inn  at  last;  a  dog 
was  the  cause  of  it  all.  I  had  neither  father  nor  mother  nor 
friends.  I  had  met  with  no  one,  ever  since  I  was  born,  whose 
eyes  had  any  kindness  in  them  for  me.  Morin,  the  old 
woman  who  had  brought  me  up,  was  dead.  She  had  been 
very  good  to  me,  but  I  cannot  remember  that  she  ever  petted 
me  much ;  besides,  she  worked  out  in  the  fields  like  a  man, 
poor  thing ;  and  if  she  fondled  me  at  times,  she  also  used  to 
rap  my  fingers  with  the  spoon  if  I  ate  the  soup  too  fast  out  of 
the  porringer  we  had  between  us.  Poor  old  woman,  never  a 
day  passes  but  I  remember  her  in  my  prayers !  If  it  might 
please  God  to  let  her  live  a  happier  life  up  there  than  she  did 
here  below !  And,  above  all  things,  if  she  might  only  lie  a 
little  softer  there,  for  she  was  always  grumbling  about  the 
pallet-bed  that  we  both  used  to  sleep  upon.  You  could  not 
possibly  imagine  how  it  hurts  one's  soul  to  be  repulsed  by 
every  one,  to  receive  nothing  but  hard  words  and  looks  that 
cut  you  to  the  heart,  just  as  if  they  were  so  many  stabs  of  a 
knife.  I  have  known  poor  old  people  who  were  so  used  to 
these  things  that  they  did  not  mind  them  a  bit,  but  I  was  not 
born  for  that  sort  of  life.  A  '  no  '  always  made  me  cry. 
Every  evening  I  came  back  again  more  unhappy  than  ever, 
and  only  felt  comforted  when  I  had  said  my  prayers.  In  all 
God's  world,  in  fact,  there  was  not  a  soul  to  care  for  me,  no 
one  to  whom  I  could  pour  out  my  heart.  My  only  friend 
was  the  blue  sky.  I  have  always  been  happy  when  there  was 
a  cloudless  sky  above  my  head.  I  used  to  lie  and  watch  the 
weather  from  some  nook  among  the  crags  when  the  wind  had 


ELEGIES.  263 

swept  the  clouds  away.  At  such  times  I  used  to  dream  that  I 
was  a  great  lady.  I  used  to  gaze  into  the  sky  till  I  felt  myself 
bathed  in  the  blue  ;  I  lived  up  there  in  thought,  rising  higher 
and  higher  yet,  till  my  troubles  weighed  on  me  no  more,  and 
there  was  nothing  but  gladness  left. 

"  But  to  return  to  my  love  affairs.  I  must  tell  you  that  the 
innkeeper's  spaniel  had  a  dear  little  puppy,  just  as  sensible  as 
a  human  being;  he  was  quite  white,  with  black  spots  on  his 
paws,  a  cherub  of  a  puppy  !  I  can  see  him  yet.  Poor  little 
fellow,  he  was  the  only  creature  who  ever  gave  me  a  friendly 
look  in  those  days  ;  I  kept  all  my  tit-bits  for  him.  He  knew 
me,  and  came  to  look  for  me  every  evening.  How  he  used 
to  spring  up  at  me !  And  he  would  bite  my  feet,  he  was  not 
ashamed  of  my  poverty ;  there  was  something  so  grateful  and 
so  kind  in  his  eyes  that  it  brought  tears  into  mine  to  see  it. 
'  That  is  the  one  living  creature  that  really  cares  for  me  !  '  I 
used  to  say.  He  slept  at  my  feet  that  winter.  It  hurt  me  so 
much  to  see  him  beaten,  that  I  broke  him  of  the  habit  of 
going  into  houses  to  steal  bones,  and  he  was  quite  contented 
with  my  crusts.  When  I  was  unhappy,  he  used  to  come  and 
stand  in  front  of  me,  and  look  into  my  eyes ;  it  was  just  as 
if  he  said,  *  So  you  are  sad,  my  poor  Fosseuse  ? ' 

**  If  a  traveler  threw  me  some  halfpence,  he  would  pick 
them  up  out  of  the  dust  and  bring  them  to  me,  clever  little 
spaniel  that  he  was !  I  was  less  miserable  so  long  as  I  had 
that  friend.  Every  day  I  put  away  a  few  halfpence,  for  I 
wanted  to  get  fifteen  francs  together,  so  that  I  might  buy  him 
of  father  Manseau.  One  day  his  wife  saw  that  the  dog  was  fond 
of  me,  so  she  herself  took  a  sudden  violent  fancy  to  him. 
The  dog,  mind  you,  could  not  bear  her.  Oh,  animals  know 
people  by  instinct !  If  you  really  care  for  them,  they  find  it 
out  in  a  moment.  I  had  a  gold  coin,  a  twenty-franc  piece, 
sewed  into  the  band  of  my  skirt ;  so  I  spoke  to  M.  Manseau : 
'  Dear  sir,  I  meant  to  offer  you  my  year's  savings  for  your  dog ; 
but  now  your  wife  has  a  mind  to  keep  him,  although  she  cares 


264  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

very  little  about  him,  and  rather  than  that,  will  you  sell  him 
to  me  for  twenty  francs?     Look,  I  have  the  money  here.' 

"*No,  no,  little  woman,'  he  said;  'put  up  your  twenty 
francs.  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  take  their  money  from 
the  poor  !  Keep  the  dog ;  and  if  my  wife  makes  a  fuss  about 
it,  you  must  go  away.' 

"  His  wife  made  a  terrible  to-do  about  the  dog.  Ah  !  mon 
Dieu  /  any  one  might  have  thought  the  house  was  on  fire  ! 
You  never  would  guess  the  notion  that  next  came  into  her 
head.  She  saw  that  the  little  fellow  looked  on  me  as  his 
mistress,  and  that  she  could  only  have  him  against  his  will,  so 
she  had  him  poisoned ;  and  so  my  poor  spaniel  died  in  my 

arms I  cried  over  him  as  if  he  had  been  my  child,  and 

buried  him  under  a  pine  tree.  You  do  not  know  all  that  I  laid 
in  that  grave.  As  I  sat  there  beside  it,  I  told  myself  that  hence- 
forward I  should  always  be  alone  in  the  world ;  that  I  had 
nothing  left  to  hope  for ;  that  I  should  be  again  as  I  had  been 
before,  a  poor  lonely  girl ;  that  I  should  never  more  see  a 
friendly  light  in  any  eyes.  I  stayed  out  there  all  through  the 
night,  praying  God  to  have  pity  on  me.  When  I  went  back 
to  the  highroad  I  saw  a  poor  little  child,  about  ten  years  old, 
who  had  no  hands. 

" '  God  has  heard  me,'  I  thought.  I  had  prayed  that 
night  as  I  had  never  prayed  before.  '  I  will  take  care  of  the 
poor  little  one ;  we  will  beg  together,  and  I  will  be  a  mother 
to  him.  Two  of  us  ought  to  do  better  than  one ;  perhaps  I 
shall  have  more  courage  for  him  than  I  have  for  myself.' 

"At  first  the  little  boy  seemed  to  be  quite  happy,  and, 
indeed,  he  would  have  been  hard  to  please  if  he  had  not  been 
content.  I  did  everything  that  he  wanted,  and  gave  him  the 
best  of  all  that  I  had ;  I  was  his  slave  in  fact,  and  he  tyran- 
nized over  me,  but  that  was  nicer  than  being  alone,  I  used  to 
think !  Pshaw !  no  sooner  did  the  little  good-for-nothing 
know  that  I  carried  a  twenty-franc  piece  sewed  into  my  skirt- 
band  than  he  cut  the  stitches,  and  stole  my  gold  coin,  the 


ELEGIES.  265 

price  of  my  poor  spaniel  !     I  had  meant  to  have  masses  said 

with  it. A  child  without  hands,  too  !     Oh,  it  makes  one 

shudder !  Somehow  that  theft  took  all  the  heart  out  of  me. 
It  seemed  as  if  I  was  to  love  nothing  but  it  should  come  to 
some  wretched  end. 

"  One  day  at  Echelles,  I  watched  a  fine  carriage  coming 
slowly  up  the  hillside.  There  was  a  young  lady,  as  beautiful 
as  the  Virgin  Mary,  in  the  carriage,  and  a  young  man,  who 
looked  like  the  young  lady.  'Just  look,'  he  said ;  'there  is 
a  pretty  girl ! '  and  he  flung  a  silver  coin  to  me. 

"  No  one  but  you,  M.  Benassis,  could  understand  how 
pleased  I  was  with  the  compliment,  the  first  that  I  had  ever 
had;  but,  indeed,  the  gentleman  ought  not  to  have  thrown 
the  money  to  me.  I  was  all  in  a  flutter ;  I  knew  of  a  short 
cut,  a  footpath  among  the  rocks,  and  started  at  once  to  run, 
so  that  I  reached  the  summit  of  the  Echelles  long  before  the 
carriage,  which  was  coming  up  very  slowly.  I  saw  the  young 
man  again  ;  he  was  quite  surprised  to  find  me  there ;  and  as 
for  me,  I  was  so  pleased  that  my  heart  seemed  to  be  throb- 
bing in  my  throat.  Some  kind  of  instinct  drew  me  towards 
him.  After  he  had  recognized  me,  I  went  on  my  way  again  ; 
I  felt  quite  sure  that  he  and  the  young  lady  with  him  would 
leave  the  carriage  to  see  the  waterfall  at  Couz,  and  so  they 
did.  When  they  had  alighted,  they  saw  me  once  more,  under 
the  walnut  trees  by  the  wayside.  They  asked  me  many  ques- 
tions and  seemed  to  take  an  interest  in  what  I  told  them 
about  myself.  In  all  my  life  I  had  never  heard  such  pleasant 
voices  as  they  had,  that  handsome  young  man  and  his  sister, 
for  she  was  his  sister  I  am  sure.  I  thought  about  them  for  a 
whole  year  afterwards,  and  kept  on  hoping  that  they  would 
come  back.  I  would  have  given  two  years  of  my  life  only  to 
see  that  traveler  again,  he  looked  so  nice.  Until  I  knew  M. 
Benassis  these  were  the  greatest  events  of  my  life.  Although 
my  mistress  turned  me  away  for  trying  on  that  horrid  ball-dress 
of  hers,  I  was  sorry  for  her,  and  I  have  forgiven  her;  for, 


266  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

candidly,  if  you  will  give  me  leave  to  say  so,  I  thought  my- 
self the  better  woman  of  the  two,  countess  though  she  was." 

"Well,"  said  Genestas,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "you  see 
that  Providence  has  kept  a  friendly  eye  on  you,  you  are  in 
clover  here." 

At  these  words  La  Fosseuse  looked  at  Benassis  with  eyes 
full  of  gratitude. 

"  Would  that  I  were  rich  !  "  came  from  Genestas.  The 
officer's  exclamation  was  followed  by  profound  silence. 

"  You  owe  me  a  story,"  said  La  Fosseuse  at  last,  in  coax- 
ing tones. 

"I  will  tell  it  at  once,"  answered  Genestas.  "On  the 
evening  before  the  battle  of  Friedland,"  he  went  on,  after 
a  moment,  "  I  had  been  sent  with  a  despatch  to  General 
Davoust's  quarters,  and  I  was  on  the  way  back  to  my  own, 
when  at  a  turn  in  the  road  I  found  myself  face  to  face  with 
the  Emperor.     Napoleon  gave  me  a  look. 

"  'You  are  Captain  Genestas,  are  you  not? '  he  said. 

"  '  Yes,  your  majesty.' 

"  *  You  were  out  in  Egypt  ? ' 

"  *  Yes,  your  majesty.' 

"  *  You  had  better  not  keep  to  the  road  you  are  on,'  he  said ; 
*  turn  to  the  left,  you  will  reach  your  division  sooner  that 
way.' 

"  That  was  what  the  Emperor  said,  but  you  would  never 
imagine  how  kindly  he  said  it ;  and  he  had  so  many  irons  in 
the  fire  just  then,  for  he  was  riding  about  surveying  the  posi- 
tion of  the  field.  I  am  telling  you  this  story  to  show  you 
what  a  memory  he  had,  and  so  that  you  may  know  that  he  knew 
my  face.  I  took  the  oath  in  1815.  But  for  that  mistake, 
perhaps  I  might  have  been  a  colonel  to-day ;  I  never  meant 
to  betray  the  Bourbons,  France  must  be  defended,  and  that 
was  all  I  thought  about.  I  was  a  major  in  the  Grenadiers  of 
the  Imperial  Guard  ;  and  although  my  wound  still  gave  me 
trouble,  I  swung  a  sabre  in  the  battle  of  Waterloo.     When  it 


ELEGIES.  267 

was  all  over,  and  Napoleon  returned  to  Paris,  I  went  too ; 
then  when  he  reached  Rochefort,  I  followed  him  against  his 
orders ;  it  was  some  sort  of  comfort  to  watch  over  him  and  to 
see  that  no  mishap  befell  him  on  the  way.  So  when  he  was 
walking  along  the  beach  he  turned  and  saw  me  on  duty  ten 
paces  from  him. 

"'Well,  Genestas,"  he  said,  as  he  came  towards  me,  "so 
we  are  not  yet  dead,  either  of  us  ?  ' 

"It  cut  me  to  the  heart  to  hear  him  say  that.  If  you  had 
heard  him,  you  would  have  shuddered  from  head  to  foot,  as  I 
did.  He  pointed  to  the  villainous  English  vessel  that  was 
keeping  the  entrance  to  the  harbor.  'When  I  see  that,'  he 
said,  *  and  think  of  my  Guard,  I  wish  that  I  had  perished  in 
that  torrent  of  blood.' 

"Yes,"  said  Genestas,  looking  at  the  doctor  and  at  La 
Fosseuse,  "  those  were  his  very  words." 

'"The  generals  who  counseled  you  not  to  charge  with  the 
Guard,  and  who  hurried  you  into  your  traveling  carriage, 
were  no  true  friends  of  yours,'  I  said. 

"'Come  with  me,'  he  cried  eagerly,  'the  game  is  not 
ended  yet.' 

"  '  I  would  gladly  go  with  your  majesty,  but  I  am  not  free ; 
I  have  a  motherless  child  on  my  hands  just  now,'  I  could  but 
reply. 

"And  so  it  happened  that  Adrien  over  there  prevented  me 
from  going  to  St.  Helena. 

"  'Stay,'  he  said,  '  I  have  never  given  you  anything.  You 
are  not  one  of  those  who  fill  one  hand  and  then  hold  out  the 
other.  Here  is  the  snuff-box  that  I  have  used  through  this 
last  campaign.  And  stay  on  in  France;  after  all,  brave  men 
are  wanted  there  !  Remain  in  the  service,  and  keep  me  in 
remembrance.  Of  all  my  army  in  Egypt,  you  are  the  last 
that  I  have  seen  still  on  his  legs  in  France.'  And  he  gave  me 
a  little  snuff-box. 

'"Have  "Honor  and  Country"  engraved  on  it,' he  said;  'the 


268  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

history  of  our  two  last  campaigns  is  summed  up  in  those  three 
words.' 

"  Then  those  who  were  going  out  with  him  came  up,  and  I 
spent  the  rest  of  the  morning  with  them.  The  Emperor 
walked  to  and  fro  along  the  beach ;  there  was  not  a  sign  of 
agitation  about  him,  though  he  frowned  from  time  to  time. 
At  noon,  it  was  considered  hopeless  for  him  to  attempt  to 
escape  by  sea.  The  English  had  found  out  that  he  was  at 
Rochefort ;  he  must  either  give  himself  up  to  them,  or  cross 
the  breadth  of  France  again.  We  were  wretchedly  anxious; 
the  minutes  seemed  like  hours  !  On  the  one  hand  there  were 
the  Bourbons,  who  would  have  shot  Napoleon  if  he  had  fallen 
into  their  clutches ;  and  on  the  other,  the  English,  a  dishon- 
ored race,  they  covered  themselves  with  shame  by  flinging  a 
foe  who  asked  for  hospitality  away  on  a  desert  rock,  that  is  a 
stain  which  they  will  never  wash  away.  Whilst  we  were 
anxiously  debating,  some  one  or  other  among  his  suite  pre- 
sented a  sailor  to  him,  a  Lieutenant  Doret,  who  had  a  scheme 
for  reaching  America  to  lay  before  him.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
a  brig  from  the  States  and  a  merchant  vessel  were  lying  in  the 
harbor. 

"  '  But  how  could  you  set  about  it,  lieutenant?'  the  Empe- 
ror asked  him. 

"'You  will  be  on  board  the  merchant  vessel,  sire,'  the 
man  answered.  '  I  will  run  up  the  white  flag  and  man  the 
brig  with  a  few  devoted  followers.  We  will  tackle  the  English 
vessel,  set  fire  to  her,  and  board  her,  and  you  will  get  clear 
away.' 

"  'We  will  go  with  you  ! '  I  cried  to  the  lieutenant.  But 
Napoleon  looked  at  us  and  said,  '  Captain  Genestas,  keep 
yourself  for  France.' 

"  It  was  the  only  time  I  ever  saw  Napoleon  show  any 
emotion.  With  a  wave  of  his  hand  to  us  he  went  in  again. 
I  watched  nim  go  on  board  the  English  vessel,  and  then  I 
went  away.     It  was  all  over  with  him,  and  he  knew  it.     There 


ELEGIES.  269 

was  a  traitor  in  the  harbor,  who  by  means  of  signals  gave 
warning  to  the  Emperor's  enemies  of  his  presence.  Then 
Napoleon  fell  back  on  a  last  resource ;  he  did  as  he  had  been 
wont  to  do  on  the  battlefield,  he  went  to  his  foes  instead  of 
letting  them  come  to  him.  Talk  of  troubles  !  No  words 
could  ever  make  you  understand  the  misery  of  those  who  loved 
him  for  his  own  sake." 

**  But  where  is  his  snuff-box?  "  asked  La  Fosseuse. 

**  It  is  in  a  box  at  Grenoble,"  the  commandant  replied. 

*•  I  will  go  over  to  see  it,  if  you  will  let  me.  To  think  that 
you  have  something  in  your  possession  that  his  fingers  have 
touched  ! Had  he  a  well-shaped  hand  ?  " 

"Very." 

"Can  it  be  true  that  he  is  dead?  Come,  tell  me  the  real 
truth?" 

"Yes,  my  dear  child,  he  is  dead;  there  is  no  doubt  about 
it." 

"  I  was  such  a  little  girl  in  1815.  I  was  not  tall  enough  to 
see  anything  but  his  hat,  and  even  so  I  was  nearly  crushed  to 
death  in  the  crowd  at  Grenoble." 

"Your  coffee  and  cream  is  very  nice  indeed,"  said  Genes- 
tas.  "Well,  Adrien,  how  do  you  like  this  country?  Will 
you  come  here  to  see  mademoiselle?" 

The  boy  made  no  answer ;  he  seemed  afraid  to  look  at 
La  Fosseuse.  Benassis  never  took  his  eyes  off  Adrien  ;  he 
appeared  to  be  reading  the  lad's  very  soul. 

"  Of  course  he  will  come  to  see  her,"  said  Benassis.  "  But 
let  us  go  home  again,  I  have  a  pretty  long  round  to  make, 
and  shall  want  a  horse.  I  daresay  you  and  Jacquotte  will 
manage  to  get  on  together  whilst  I  am  away." 

"Will  you  not  come  with  us?"  said  Genestas  to  La 
Fosseuse. 

"Willingly,"  she  answered;  "I  have  a  lot  of  things  to 
take  over  for  Mme.  Jacquotte." 

They  started  out  for  the  doctor's  house.     Her  visitors  had 


270  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

raised  La  Fosseuse's  spirits;  she  led  the  way  along  narrow 
tracks,  through  the  loneliest  yet  most  lovely  parts  of  the 
hills. 

"You  have  told  us  nothing  about  yourself,  Monsieur 
rOfficier,"  she  said.  **I  should  have  liked  to  hear  you  tell 
us  about  some  adventure  in  the  wars.     I  liked  what  you  told 

us  about  Napoleon  very  much,  but  it  made  me  feel  sad. 

If  you  would  be  so  very  kind " 

"  Quite  right !  "  Benassis  exclaimed.  "You  ought  to  tell 
us  about  some  thrilling  adventure  during  our  walk.  Come, 
now,  something  really  interesting,  like  that  business  of  the 
beam  in  the  Beresina  !  " 

**  So  few  of  my  recollections  are  worth  telling,"  said  Ge- 
nestas.  "Some  people  come  in  for  all  kinds  of  adventures, 
but  I  have  never  managed  to  be  the  hero  of  any  story.  Oh  ! 
stop  a  bit  though,  a  funny  thing  did  once  happen  to  me.  I 
was  with  the  Grand  Army  in  1805,  and  so,  of  course,  I  was 
at  Austerlitz.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  skirmishing  just  be- 
fore Ulm  surrendered,  which  kept  the  cavalry  pretty  fully 
occupied.  Moreover  we  were  under  the  command  of  Murat, 
who  never  let  the  grass  grow  under  his  feet. 

"  I  was  still  only  a  sub-lieutenant  in  those  days.  It  was 
just  at  the  opening  of  the  campaign,  and  after  one  of  these 
affairs,  that  we  took  possession  of  a  district  in  which  there 
were  a  good  many  fine  estates ;  so  it  fell  out  that  one  evening 
my  regiment  bivouacked  in  a  park  belonging  to  a  handsome 
chateau  where  a  countess  lived,  a  young  and  pretty  woman 
she  was.  Of  course,  I  meant  to  lodge  in  the  house,  and  I 
hurried  there  to  put  a  stop  to  pillage  of  any  sort.  I  came 
into  the  salon  just  as  my  quartermaster  was  pointing  his  car- 
bine at  the  countess,  his  brutal  way  of  asking  for  what  she 
certainly  could  not  give  the  ugly  scoundrel.  I  struck  up  his 
carbine  with  my  sword,  the  bullet  went  through  a  looking- 
glass  on  the  wall,  then  I  dealt  my  gentleman  a  back-handed 
blow  that  stretched  him  on  the  floor.     The  sound  of  the  shot 


ELEGIES.  271 

and  the  cries  of  the  countess  brought  all  her  people  on  the 
scene,  and  it  was  my  turn  to  be  in  danger. 

*' '  Stop  !  '  she  cried  in  German  (for  they  were  going  to  run 
me  through  the  body),  '  this  officer  has  saved  my  life?' 

"  They  drew  back  at  that.  The  lady  gave  me  her  handker- 
chief (a  fine  embroidered  handkerchief,  which  I  have  yet), 
telling  me  that  her  house  would  always  be  open  to  me,  and 
that  I  should  always  find  a  sister  and  a  devoted  friend  in  her, 
if  at  any  time  I  should  be  in  any  sort  of  trouble.  In  short, 
she  did  not  know  how  to  make  enough  of  me.  She  was  as 
fair  as  a  wedding  morning  and  as  charming  as  a  kitten.  We 
had  dinner  together.  Next  day  I  was  distractedly  in  love, 
but  next  day  I  had  to  be  in  my  place  at  Giintzburg,  or 
wherever  it  was.  There  was  no  help  for  it,  I  had  to  turn  out, 
and  started  off  with  my  handkerchief,  much  aggrieved  over 
the  turn  affairs  had  taken. 

**  Well,  we  gave  them  battle,  and  all  the  time  I  kept  on  say- 
ing to  myself,  '  I  wish  a  bullet  would  come  my  way  !  Mon 
Dieu  /  they  are  flying  thick  enough  !  ' 

"I  had  no  wish  for  a  ball  in  the  thigh,  for  I  should  have 
had  to  stop  where  I  was  in  that  case,  and  there  would  have 
been  no  going  back  to  the  chateau,  but  I  was  not  particular ; 
a  nice  wound  in  the  arm  I  should  have  liked  best,  so  that  I 
might  be  nursed  and  made  much  of  by  the  princess.  I  flung 
myself  on  the  enemy,  like  mad  ;  but  I  had  no  sort  of  luck, 
and  came  out  of  the  action  quite  safe  and  sound.  We  must 
march,  and  there  was  an  end  of  it ;  I  never  saw  the  countess 
again,  and  there  is  the  whole  story." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  Benassis*  house ;  the  doctor 
mounted  his  horse  at  once  and  disappeared.  Genestas  recom- 
mended his  son  to  Jacquotte's  care,  so  the  doctor  on  his  return 
found  that  she  had  taken  Adrien  completely  under  her  wing, 
and  had  installed  him  in  M.  Gravier's  celebrated  room.  With 
no  small  astonishment,  she  heard  her  master's  order  to  put  up 
a  simple  camp-bed  in  his  own  room;  for  that  the  lad  was  to 


272  THE    COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

sleep  there,  and  this  in  such  an  authoritative  tone,  that  for 
once  in  her  life  Jacquotte  found  not  a  single  word  to  say. 

After  dinner  the  commandant  went  back  to  Grenoble.  Be- 
nassis'  reiterated  assurances  that  the  lad  would  soon  be  restored 
to  health  had  taken  a  weight  off  his  mind. 

Eight  months  later,  in  the  earliest  days  of  the  following 
December,  Genestas  was  appointed  to  be  lieutenant-colonel 
of  a  regiment  stationed  at  Poitiers.  He  was  just  thinking 
of  writing  to  Benassis  to  tell  him  of  the  journey  he  was  about 
to  take,  when  a  letter  came  from  the  doctor.  His  friend  told 
him  that  Adrien  was  once  more  in  sound  health. 

"The  boy  has  grown  strong  and  tall,"  he  said  ;  "  and  he 
is  wonderfully  well.  He  has  profited  by  Butifer's  instruction 
since  you  saw  him  last,  and  is  now  as  good  a  shot  as  our 
smuggler  himself.  He  has  grown  brisk  and  active  too  ;  he  is 
a  good  walker,  and  rides  well ;  he  is  not  in  the  least  like  the 
lad  of  sixteen  who  looked  like  a  boy  of  twelve  eight  months 
ago ;  any  one  might  think  he  was  twenty  years  old.  There 
is  an  air  of  self-reliance  and  independence  about  him.  In 
fact,  he  is  a  man  now,  and  you  must  begin  to  think  about  his 
future  at  once." 

"I  shall  go  over  to  Benassis  to-morrow,  of  course,"  said 
Genestas  to  himself,  "and  I  will  see  what  he  says  before  I 
make  up  my  mind  what  to  do  with  that  fellow,"  and  with  that 
he  went  to  a  farewell  dinner  given  to  him  by  his  brotlier 
officers.  He  would  be  leaving  Grenoble  now  in  a  very  few 
days. 

As  the  lieutenant-colonel  returned  after  the  dinner,  his 
servant  handed  him  a  letter.  It  had  been  brought  by  a 
messenger,  he  said,  who  had  waited  a  long  while  for  an  an- 
swer. 

Genestas   recognized   Adrien 's   handwriting    although   his 


ELEGIES.  273 

head  was  swimming  after  the  toasts  that  had  been  drunk  in 
his  honor ;  probably,  he  thought  the  letter  merely  contained 
a  request  to  gratify  some  boyish  whim,  so  he  left  it  unopened 
on  the  table.  The  next  morning,  when  the  fumes  of  cham- 
pagne had  passed,  he  took  it  and  began  to  read. 

"  My  dear  father " 

"Oh!  you  young  rogue,"  was  his  comment,  "you  know 
how  to  coax  whenever  you  want  something." 

"Our  dear  M.  Benassis  is  dead " 

The  letter  dropped  from  Genestas'  hands ;  it  was  some  time 
before  he  could  read  any  more. 

"Every  one  is  in  consternation.  The  trouble  is  all  the 
greater  because  it  came  as  a  sudden  shock.  It  was  so  unex- 
pected. M.  Benassis  seemed  perfectly  well  the  day  before ; 
there  was  not  a  sign  of  ill-health  about  him.  Only  the  day 
before  yesterday  he  went  to  see  all  his  patients,  even  those 
who  lived  farthest  away ;  it  was  as  if  he  had  known  what  was 
going  to  happen ;  and  he  spoke  to  every  one  whom  he  met, 
saying,  'Good-bye  my  friends,'  each  time.  Towards  five 
o'clock  he  came  back  just  as  usual  to  have  dinner  with  me. 
He  was  tired ;  Jacquotte  noticed  the  purple  flush  on  his  face, 
but  the  weather  was  so  very  cold  that  she  would  not  get  ready 
a  warm  foot-bath  for  him,  as  she  usually  did  when  she  saw 
that  the  blood  had  gone  to  his  head.  So  she  has  been  wail- 
ing, poor  thing,  through  her  tears  for  these  two  days  past,  '  If 
I  had  only  given  him  a  foot-bath,  he  would  be  living  now ! ' 

"M,  Benassis  was  hungry;  he  made  a  good  dinner.  I 
thought  he  was  in  higher  spirits  than  usual ;  we  both  of  us 
laughed  a  great  deal,  I  had  never  seen  him  laugh  so  much 
before.  After  dinner,  towards  seven  o'clock,  a  man  came  with 
a  message  from  Saint  Laurent  du  Pont ;  it  was  a  serious  case, 
and  M.  Benassis  was  urgently  needed.  He  said  to  me,  *  I 
shall  have  to  go,  though  I  never  care  to  set  out  on  horseback 
when  I  have  hardly  digested  my  dinner,  more  especially  when 
it  is  as  cold  as  this.  It  is  enough  to  kill  a  man  !  ' 
18 


274  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

"  For  all  that,  he  went.  At  nine  o'clock  the  postman, 
Goguelat,  brought  a  letter  for  M.  Benassis.  Jacquotte  was 
tired  out,  for  it  was  her  washing-day.  She  gave  me  the  letter 
and  went  off  to  bed.  She  begged  me  to  keep  a  good  fire  in 
our  bedroom,  and  to  have  some  tea  ready  for  M.  Benassis 
when  he  came  in,  for  I  am  still  sleeping  in  the  little  cot-bed 
in  his  room.  I  raked  out  the  fire  in  the  salon,  and  went 
upstairs  to  wait  for  my  good  friend.  I  looked  at  the  letter, 
out  of  curiosity,  before  I  laid  it  on  the  chimney-piece,  and 
noticed  the  handwriting  and  the  postmark.  It  came  from 
Paris,  and  I  think  it  was  a  lady's  hand.  I  am  telling  you 
about  it  because  of  things  that  happened  afterwards. 

*'  About  ten  o'clock,  I  heard  the  horse  returning,  and 
M.  Benassis'  voice.  He  said  to  Nicolle,  '  It  is  cold  enough 
to-night  to  bring  the  wolves  out.  I  do  not  feel  at  all  well.' 
Nicolle  said,  '  Shall  I  go  up  and  wake  Jacquotte  ?  '  And  M. 
Benassis  answered,  '  Oh  !  no,  no,'  and  came  upstairs. 

**  I  said,  'I  have  your  tea  here,  all  ready  for  you,'  and  he 
smiled  at  me  in  the  way  that  you  know,  and  said,  *  Thank 
you,  Adrien.'  That  was  his  last  smile.  In  a  moment  he 
began  to  take  off  his  cravat,  as  though  he  could  not  breathe. 
*  How  hot  it  is  in  here  !  '  he  said,  and  flung  himself  down 
in  an  armchair.  '  A  letter  has  come  for  you,  my  good 
friend,'  I  said  ;  '  here  it  is  ;  '  and  I  gave  him  the  letter.  He 
took  it  up  and  glanced  at  the  handwriting.  *  Ah !  mon 
Dieu  ! '  he  exclaimed,  *  perhaps  she  is  free  at  last ! '  Then 
his  head  sank  back  and  his  hands  shook.  After  a  little  while 
he  set  the  lamp  on  the  table  and  opened  the  letter.  There 
was  something  so  alarming  in  the  cry  he  had  given  that  I 
watched  him  while  he  read,  and  saw  that  his  face  was  flushed, 
and  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes.  Then  quite  suddenly  he  fell, 
head  forwards.  I  tried  to  raise  him,  and  saw  how  purple  his 
face  was. 

**  *  It  is  all  over  with  me,'  he  said,  stammering;  it  was  ter- 
rible  to   see   how   he   struggled  to  rise.     '  I  must  be  bled  ; 


ELEGIES.  275 

bleed  me  !  '    he  cried,  clutching    my  hand '  Adrien,'   he 

said  again,  '  burn  this  letter !  '  He  gave  it  to  me,  and  I 
threw  it  on  the  fire.  I  called  for  Jacquotte  and  NicoUe. 
Jacquotte  did  not  hear  me,  but  Nicolle  did,  and  came  hurry- 
ing upstairs ;  he  helped  me  to  lay  M.  Benassis  on  my  little 
bed.  Our  dear  friend  could  not  hear  us  any  longer  when  we 
spoke  to  him,  and  although  his  eyes  were  open,  he  did  not  see 
anything.  Nicolle  galloped  off  at  once  to  fetch  the  surgeon, 
M,  Bordier,  and  in  this  way  spread  alarm  through  the  town. 
It  was  all  astir  in  a  moment.  M.  Janvier,  M.  Dufau,  and  all 
the  rest  of  your  acquaintance  were  the  first  to  come  to  us. 
But  all  hope  was  at  an  end,  M.  Benassis  was  dying  fast.  He 
gave  no  sign  of  consciousness,  not  even  when  M.  Bordier 
cauterized  the  soles  of  his  feet.  It  was  an  attack  of  gout, 
combined  with  an  apoplectic  stroke. 

"  I  am  giving  you  all  these  details,  dear  father,  because 
I  know  how  much  you  cared  for  him.  As  for  me,  I  am 
very  sad  and  full  of  grief,  for  I  can  say  to  you  that  I  cared 
more  for  him  than  for  any  one  else  except  you.  I  learned 
more  from  M.  Benassis'  talk  in  the  evenings  than  I  ever  could 
have  learned  at  school. 

'*  You  cannot  imagine  the  scene  next  morning  when  the 
news  of  his  death  was  known  in  the  place.  The  garden  and 
the  yard  here  were  filled  with  people.  How  they  sobbed 
and  wailed  !  Nobody  did  any  work  that  day.  Every  one 
recalled  the  last  time  that  they  had  seen  M.  Benassis,  and 
what  he  had  said,  or  they  talked  of  all  that  he  had  done  for 
them  ;  and  those  who  were  least  overcome  with  grief  spoke 
for  the  others.  Every  one  wanted  to  see  him  once  more,  and 
the  crowd  grew  larger  every  moment.  The  sad  news  traveled 
so  fast  that  men  and  women  and  children  came  from  ten 
leagues  round  ;  all  the  people  in  the  district,  and  even  beyond 
it,  had  that  one  thought  in  their  minds. 

"  It  was  arranged  that  four  of  the  oldest  men  of  the  com- 
mune should  carry  the  coffin.     It  was  a  very  difficult  task  for 


276  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

them,  for  the  crowd  was  so  dense  between  the  church  and 
M.  Benassis'  house.  There  must  have  been  nearly  five  thou- 
sand people  there,  and  almost  every  one  knelt  as  if  the  Host 
were  passing.  There  was  not  nearly  room  for  them  in  the 
church.  In  spite  of  their  grief,  the  crowd  was  so  silent  that 
you  could  hear  the  sound  of  the  bell  during  mass  and  the 
chanting  as  far  as  the  end  of  the  High  Street ;  but  when  the 
procession  started  again  for  the  new  cemetery,  which  M.  Be- 
nassis had  given  to  the  town,  little  thinking,  poor  man,  that 
he  himself  would  be  the  first  to  be  buried  there,  a  great  cry 
went  up.  M.  Janvier  wept  as  he  said  the  prayers  ;  there  were 
no  dry  eyes  among  the  crowd.     And  so  we  buried  him. 

"  As  night  came  on  the  people  dispersed,  carrying  sorrow 
and  mourning  everywhere  with  them.  The  next  day  Gondrin 
and  Goguelat,  and  Butifer,  with  some  others,  set  to  work  to 
raise  a  sort  of  pyramid  of  earth,  twenty  feet  high,  above  the 
spot  where  M.  Benassis  lies ;  it  is  being  covered  now  with 
green  sods,  and  every  one  is  helping  them.  These  things, 
dear  father,  have  all  happened  in  three  days. 

"M.  Dufau  found  M.  Benassis'  will  lying  open  on  the  table 
where  he  used  to  write.  When  it  was  known  how  his  property 
had  been  left,  affection  for  him  and  regret  for  his  loss  became 
even  deeper,  if  possible.  And  now,  dear  father,  I  am  waiting 
for  Butifer  (who  is  taking  this  letter  to  you)  to  come  back  with 
your  answer.  You  must  tell  me  what  I  am  to  do.  Will  you 
come  to  fetch  me,  or  shall  I  go  to  you  at  Grenoble  ?  Tell  me 
what  you  wish  me  to  do,  and  be  sure  that  I  shall  obey  you  in 
everything. 

"  Farewell,  dear  father,  I  send  my  love,  and  I  am  your 
affectionate  son,  Adrien  Genestas." 

"  Ah  !  well,  I  must  go  over,"  the  soldier  exclaimed. 

He  ordered  his  horse  and  started  out.  It  was  one  of  those 
still  December  mornings  when  the  sky  is  covered  with  gray 
clouds.     The  wind  was  too  light  to  disperse  the  thick  fog. 


ELEGIES.  277 

through  which  the  bare  trees  and  damp  house  fronts  seemed 
strangely  unfamiliar.  The  very  silence  was  gloomy.  There 
is  such  a  thing  as  a  silence  full  of  light  and  gladness;  on  a 
bright  day  there  is  a  certain  joyousness  about  the  slightest 
sound,  but  in  such  dreary  weather  nature  is  not  silent,  she  is 
dumb.  All  sounds  seemed  to  die  away,  stifled  by  the  heavy 
air. 

There  was  something  in  the  gloom  without  him  that  har- 
monized with  Colonel  Genestas'  mood  ;  his  heart  was  oppressed 
with  grief,  and  thoughts  of  death  filled  his  mind.  Involun- 
tarily he  began  to  think  of  the  cloudless  sky  on  that  lovely 
spring  morning,  and  remembered  how  bright  the  valley  had 
looked  when  he  passed  through  it  for  the  first  time  ;  and  now, 
in  strong  contrast  with  that  day,  the  heavy  sky  above  him  was 
a  leaden  gray,  there  was  no  greenness  about  the  hills,  which 
were  still  waiting  for  the  cloak  of  winter  snow  that  invests 
them  with  a  certain  beauty  of  its  own.  There  was  something 
painful  in  all  this  bleak  and  bare  desolation  for  a  man  who 
was  traveling  to  find  a  grave  at  his  journey's  end  ;  the  thought 
of  that  grave  haunted  him.  The  lines  of  dark  pine-trees  here 
and  there  along  the  mountain  ridges  against  the  sky  seized  on 
his  imagination ;  they  were  in  keeping  with  the  officer's 
mournful  musings.  Every  time  that  he  looked  over  the  valley 
that  lay  before  him,  he  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  trouble 
that  had  befallen  the  canton,  of  the  man  who  had  died  so 
lately,  and  of  the  blank  left  by  his  death. 

Before  long,  Genestas  reached  the  cottage  where  he  had 
asked  for  a  cup  of  milk  on  his  first  journey.  The  sight  of 
the  smoke  rising  above  the  hovel  where  the  charity-children 
were  being  brought  up  recalled  vivid  memories  of  Benassis 
and  of  his  kindness  of  heart.  The  officer  made  up  his  mind 
to  call  there.  He  would  give  some  alms  to  the  poor  woman 
for  his  dead  friend's  sake.  He  tied  his  horse  to  a  tree,  and 
opened  the  door  of  the  hut  without  knocking. 

"Good-day,  mother,"  he  said,  addressing  the  old  woman, 


278  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

who  was  sitting  by  the  fire  with  the  little  ones  crouching  at 
her  side.     *'  Do  you  remember  me  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  quite  well,  sir  !  You  came  here  one  fine  morning 
last  spring  and  gave  us  two  crowns." 

"  There,  mother  !  that  is  for  you  and  the  children.' 

"  Thank  you  kindly,  sir.     May  heaven  bless  you  !  " 

"  You  must  not  thank  me,  mother,"  said  the  officer;  "  it  is 
all  through  M.  Benassis  that  the  money  has  come  to  you." 

The  old  woman  raised  her  eyes  and  gazed  at  Genestas. 

"  Ah  !  sir,"  she  said,  "  he  has  left  his  property  to  our  poor 
countryside,  and  made  all  of  us  his  heirs ;  but  we  have  lost 
him  who  was  worth  more  than  all,  for  it  was  he  who  n\ade 
everything  turn  out  well  for  us." 

"  Good-bye,  mother  !  Pray  for  him,"  said  Genestas,  mak- 
ing a  few  playful  cuts  at  the  children  with  his  riding  whip. 

The  old  woman  and  her  little  charges  went  out  with  him ; 
they  watched  him  mount  his  horse  and  ride  away. 

He  followed  the  road  along  the  valley  until  he  reached  the 
bridle-path  that  led  to  La  Fosseuse's  cottage.  From  the 
slope  above  the  house  he  saw  that  the  door  was  fastened  and 
the  shutters  closed.  In  some  anxiety  he  returned  to  the  high- 
way, and  rode  on  under  the  poplars,  now  bare  and  leafless. 
Before  long  he  overtook  the  old  laborer,  who  was  dressed  in 
his  Sunday  best,  and  creeping  slowly  along  the  road.  There 
was  no  bag  of  tools  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Good-day,  father  Moreau  !  " 

"Ah!  good-day,  sir, 1  mind  who  you  are  now!  "  the 

old  fellow  exclaimed  after  a  moment.  "  You  are  a  friend  of 
monsieur,  our  late  mayor  !  Ah  !  sir,  would  it  not  have  been 
far  better  if  God  had  only  taken  a  poor  rheumatic  old  creature 
like  me  instead?  It  would  not  have  mattered  if  He  had 
taken  me,  but  he  was  the  light  of  our  eyes." 

"  Do  you  know  how  it  is  that  there  is  no  one  at  home  up 
there  at  La  Fosseuse's  cottage  ?  " 

The  old  man  gave  a  look  at  the  sky. 


ELEGIES.  279 

"  What  time  is  it,  sir?  The  sun  has  not  shone  all  day,"  he 
said. 

"It  is  ten  o'clock." 

"  Oh  !  well,  then,  she  will  have  gone  to  mass  or  else  to  the 
cemetery.  She  goes  there  every  day.  He  has  left  her  five 
hundred  livres  a  year  and  her  house  for  as  long  as  she  lives, 
but  his  death  has  fairly  turned  her  brain,  as  you  may  say " 

"And  where  are  you  going,  father  Moreau?" 

"Little  Jacques  is  to  be  buried  to-day,  and  I  am  going  to 
the  funeral.  He  was  my  nephew,  poor  little  chap  ;  he  had 
been  ailing  a  long  while,  and  he  died  yesterday  morning.  It 
really  looked  as  though  it  was  M.  Benassis  who  kept  him  alive. 
That  is  the  way  !  All  these  younger  ones  die  !  ' '  Moreau 
added,  half-jestingly,  half  sadly. 

Genestas  reined  in  his  horse  as  he  entered  the  town,  for  he 
met  Gondrin  and  Goguelat,  each  carrying  a  pickaxe  and  shovel. 
Recalled  to  them,  "Well,  old  comrades,  we  have  had  the 
misfortune  to  lose  him " 

"There,  there,  that  is  enough,  sir  !  "  interrupted  Goguelat, 
"  we  know  that  well  enough.  We  have  just  been  cutting 
turf  to  cover  his  grave." 

"  His  life  will  make  a  grand  story  to  tell,  eh?"  remarked 
Genestas  as  they  proceeded  along. 

"Yes,"  answered  Goguelat,  "he  was  the  Napoleon  of  our 
valley,  barring  the  battles." 

As  they  reached  the  parsonage,  Genestas  saw  a  little  group 
about  the  door;  Butifer  and  Adrien  were  talking  with  M. 
Janvier,  who,  no  doubt,  had  just  returned  from  saying  mass. 
Seeing  that  the  officer  made  as  though  he  were  about  to  dis- 
mount, Butifer  promptly  went  to  hold  the  horse,  while  Adrien 
sprang  forward  and  flung  his  arms  about  his  father's  neck. 
Genestas  was  deeply  touched  by  the  boy's  affection,  though  no 
sign  of  this  appeared  in  the  soldier's  words  or  manner. 

"Why,  Adrien,"  he  said,  "you  certainly  are  set  up  again. 
My  goodness !     Thanks  to  our  poor  friend,  you  have  almost 


280  THE   COUNTRY  DOCTOR. 

grown  into  a  man.  I  shall  not  forget  your  tutor  here,  Master 
Butifer." 

"Oh!  colonel,"  entreated  Butifer, '*  take  me  away  from 
here  and  put  me  into  your  regiment.  I  cannot  trust  myself 
now  that  M.  le  Maire  is  gone.  He  wanted  me  to  go  for  a 
soldier,  didn't  he?  Well,  then,  I  will  do  what  he  wished. 
He  told  you  all  about  me,  and  you  will  not  be  hard  on  me, 
will  you,  M.  Genestas  ? ' ' 

"Right,  my  fine  fellow,"  said  Genestas,  as  he  struck  his 
hand  in  the  other's.     "  I  will  find  something  to  suit  you,  set 

your   mind   at   rest And   how   is  it   with   you,    M.  le 

Cure!" 

"  Well,  like  everyone  else  in  the  canton,  colonel,  I  feel  sorrow 
for  his  loss,  but  no  one  knows  as  I  do  how  irreparable  it  is. 
He  was  like  an  angel  of  God  among  us.  Fortunately,  he  did 
not  suffer  at  all;  it  was  a  painless  death.  The  hand  of  God 
gently  loosed  the  bonds  of  a  life  tliat  was  one  continual  bless- 
ing to  us  all." 

"  Will  it  be  intrusive  if  I  ask  you  to  accompany  me  to 
the  cemetery?  I  should  like  to  bid  him  farewell,  as  it 
were. ' ' 

Genestas  and  the  cure,  still  in  conversation,  walked  on 
together.  Butifer  and  Adrien  followed  them  at  a  few  paces 
distance.  They  went  in  the  direction  of  the  little  lake,  and 
as  soon  as  they  were  clear  of  the  town,  the  lieutenant-colonel 
saw  on  the  mountain  side  a  large  piece  of  waste  la^ti  enclosed 
by  walls. 

"That  is  the  cemetery,"  the  cur6  told  him.  "He  is  the 
first  to  be  buried  in  it.  Only  three  months  before  he  was 
brought  here,  it  struck  him  that  it  was  a  very  bad  arrangement 
to  have  the  churchyard  round  the  church  ;  so,  in  order  to  carry 
out  the  law,  which  prescribes  that  burial  grounds  should  be 
removed  to  a  stated  distance  from  human  dwellings,  he  him- 
self gave  this  piece  of  land  to  the  commune.  We  are  burying 
^  child,  poor  little  thing,  in  the  new  cemetery  to-day,  so  we 


ELEGIES.  281 

shall  have  begun  by  laying  innocence  and  virtue  there.  Can 
it  be  that  death  is  after  all  a  reward  ?  Did  God  mean  it  as  a 
lesson  for  us  when  he  took  these  two  perfect  natures  to  Him- 
self? When  we  have  been  tried  and  disciplined  in  youth  by 
pain,  in  later  life  by  mental  suffering,  are  we  so  much  the 
nearer  to  Him?  Look!  there  is  the  rustic  monument  which 
has  been  erected  to  his  memory." 

Genestas  saw  a  mound  of  earth  about  twenty  feet  high.  It 
was  bare  as  yet,  but  dwellers  in  the  district  were  already  busy 
covering  the  sloping  sides  with  green  turf.  La  Fosseuse,  her 
face  buried  in  her  hands,  was  sobbing  bitterly ;  she  was  sitting 
on  the  pile  of  stones  in  which  they  had  planted  a  great 
wooden  cross,  made  from  the  trunk  of  a  pine  tree,  from  which 
the  bark  had  not  been  removed.  The  officer  read  the  inscrip- 
tion ;  the  letters  were  large,  and  had  been  deeply  cut  in  the 
wood: 

D.  O.  M. 

HERE  LIES 

THE  GOOD   MONSIEUR   BENASSIS 

THE  FATHER  OF  US  ALL 

PRAY  FOR  HIM. 

"Was  it  you,  sir,"  asked  Genestas,  "who ?" 

"  No,"  answered  the  cure  ;  "  it  is  simply  what  is  said  every- 
where, from  the  heights  up  there  above  us  down  to  Grenoble, 
so  the  words  have  been  carved  here." 

Genestas  remained  silent  for  a  few  moments.  Then  he 
moved  from  where  he  stood  and  came  nearer  to  La  Fosseuse. 
who  did  not  hear  him,  and  spoke  again  to  the  cure. 

"As  soon  as  I  have  my  pension,"  he  said,  "  I  will  come  to 
finish  my  days  here  among  you." 


THE    COMMISSION    IN    LUNACY. 

( L '  Interdiction . ) 

Translated  by  Clara.  Bell. 

Dedicated  to  Monsieur  le  Contre-Amiral  Bazoche,   Governor 
of  the  Isle  of  Bourbon,  by  the  grateful  writer, 

De  Balzac. 

In  1828,  at  about  one  o'clock  one  morniug,  two  persons 
came  out  of  a  large  house  in  the  Rue  du  Faubourg  Saint- 
Honore,  near  the  Elysee-Bourbon.  One  was  a  famous 
doctor,  Horace  Bianchon ;  the  other  was  one  of  the  most 
elegant  men  in  Paris,  the  Baron  de  Rastignac ;  they  were 
friends  of  long  standing.  Each  had  sent  away  his  carriage, 
and  no  cab  was  to  be  seen  in  the  street ;  but  the  night  was 
fine,  and  the  pavement  dry. 

"We  will  walk  as  far  as  the  Boulevard,"  said  Eugene  de 
Rastignac  to  Bianchon.  "  You  can  get  a  hackney  cab  at  the 
club;  there  is  always  one  to  be  found  there  till  daybreak. 
Come  with  me  as  far  as  my  house." 

"With  pleasure." 

"  Well,  and  what  have  you  to  say  about  it  ?  " 

"  About  that  woman  ?  "  said  the  doctor  coldly. 

"There  I  recognize  my  Bianchon  !  "  exclaimed  Rastignac. 

"Why,  how?" 

"  Well,  my  dear  fellow,  you  speak  of  the  Marquise  d'Espard 
as  if  she  were  a  case  for  your  hospital." 

"Do  you  want  to  know  what  I  think,  Eugene?  If  you 
throw  over  Madame  de  Nucingen  for  this  Marquise,  you  will 
swap  a  one-eyed  horse  for  a  blind  one." 

"Madame  de  Nucingen  is  six-and-thirty,  Bianchon." 

"And    this  woman  is  three-and-thirty."  said    the  doctor. 

(283) 


284  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

"  Her  worst  enemies  only  say  six-and-twenty." 

"  My  dear  boy,  when  you  really  want  to  know  a  woman's 
age,  look  at  her  temples  and  the  tip  of  her  nose.  Whatever 
women  may  achieve  with  their  cosmetics,  they  can  do  nothing 
against  those  incorruptible  witnesses  to  their  experiences. 
There  each  year  of  life  has  left  its  stigmata.  When  a  woman's 
temples  are  flaccid,  seamed,  withered  in  a  particular  way; 
when  at  the  tip  of  her  nose  you  see  those  minute  specks,  which 
look  like  the  imperceptible  black  smuts  which  are  shed  in 
London  by  the  chimneys  in  which  coal  is  burnt Your  ser- 
vant, sir !  That  woman  is  more  than  thirty.  She  may  be 
handsome,  witty,  loving — whatever  you  please,  but  she  is  past 
thirty,  she  is  arriving  at  maturity.  I  do  not  blame  men  who 
attach  themselves  to  that  kind  of  woman  ;  only  a  man  of  your 
superior  distinction  must  not  mistake  a  winter  pippin  for  a 
little  summer  apple,  smiling  on  the  bough,  and  waiting  for  you 
to  crunch  it.  Love  never  goes  to  study  the  registers  of  birth 
and  marriage ;  no  one  loves  a  woman  because  she  is  handsome 
or  ugly,  stupid  or  clever;  we  love  because  we  love." 

"  Well,  for  my  part,  I  love  for  quite  other  reasons.  She  is 
Marquise  d'Espard;  she  was  a  Blamont-Chauvry ;  she  is  the 
fashion  ;  she  has  soul ;  her  foot  is  as  pretty  as  the  Duchesse  de 
Berri's;  she  has  perhaps  a  hundred  thousand  francs  a  year — 
some  day,  perhaps,  I  may  marry  her !  In  short,  she  will  put 
me  into  a  position  which  will  enable  me  to  pay  my  debts." 

"  I  thought  you  were  rich,"  interrupted  Bianchon. 

*'  Bah  !  I  have  twenty  thousand  francs  a  year — ^just  enough 
to  keep  up  my  stables.  I  was  thoroughly  done,  my  dear  fellow, 
in  that  Nucingen  business ;  I  will  tell  you  about  that.  I  have 
got  my  sisters  married  ;  that  is  the  clearest  profit  I  can  show 
since  we  last  met ;  and  I  would  rather  have  them  provided  for 
than  have  five  hundred  thousand  francs  a  year.  Now,  what 
would  you  have  me  do  ?  I  am  ambitious.  To  what  can 
Madame  de  Nucingen  lead  ?  A  year  more  and  I  shall  l)e 
shelved,  stuck  in  a  pigeon-hole  like  a  married  man.     I  have 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  285 

all  the  discomforts  of  marriage  and  of  single  life,  without  the 
advantages  of  either;  a  false  position,  to  which  every  man 
must  come  who  remains  tied  too  long  to  the  same  apron- 
string.  '  * 

"So  you  think  you  will  come  upon  a  treasure  here?"  said 
Bianchon.  "Your  Marquise,  my  dear  fellow,  does  not  hit 
my  fancy  at  all." 

"Your  liberal  opinions  blur  your  eyesight.  If  Madame 
d'Espard  were  a  Madame  Rabourdin " 

"  Listen  to  me.  Noble  or  simple,  she  would  still  have  no 
soul ;  she  would  still  be  a  perfect  type  of  selfishness.  Take 
my  word  for  it,  medical  men  are  accustomed  to  judge  of 
people  and  things  ;  the  sharpest  of  us  read  the  soul  while  we 
study  the  body.  In  spite  of  that  pretty  boudoir  where  we 
have  spent  this  evening,  in  spite  of  the  magnificence  of  the 
house,  it  is  quite  possible  that  Madame  la  Marquise  is  in 
debt." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

"I  do  not  assert  it;  I  am  supposing.  She  talked  of  her 
soul  as  Louis  XVIII.  used  to  talk  of  his  heart.  I  tell  you  this: 
That  fragile,  fair  woman,  with  her  chestnut  hair,  who  pities 
herself  that  she  may  be  pitied,  enjoys  an  iron  constitution,  an 
appetite  like  a  wolf's,  and  the  strength  and  cowardice  of  a 
tiger.  Gauze,  and  silk,  and  muslin  were  never  more  cleverly 
twisted  round  a  lie  !     Ecco^ 

"  Bianchon,  you  frighten  me  !  You  have  learned  a  good 
many  things,  then,  since  we  lived  in  the  Maison  Vauquer?  " 

"Yes;  since  then,  my  boy,  I  have  seen  puppets,  both  dolls 
and  mannikins.  I  know  something  of  the  ways  of  the  fine 
ladies  whose  bodies  we  attend  to,  saving  that  which  is  dearest 
to  them,  their  child — if  they  love  it — or  their  pretty  faces, 
which  they  always  worship.  A  man  spends  his  nights  by  their 
pillow,  wearing  himself  to  death  to  spare  them  the  slightest 
loss  of  beauty  in  any  part ;  he  succeeds,  he  keeps  their  secret 
like  the  dead ;  they  send  to  ask  for  his  bill,  and  think  it  horribly 


286  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

exorbitant.  Who  saved  them?  Nature.  Far  from  recom- 
mending him,  they  speak  ill  of  him,  fearing  lest  he  should 
become  the  physician  of  their  best  friends. 

*'My  dear  fellow,  those  women  of  whom  you  say,  'They 
are  angels ! '  I — I — have  seen  stripped  of  the  little  grimaces 
under  which  they  hide  their  soul,  as  well  as  of  the  frippery 
under  which  they  disguise  their  defects — without  manners  and 
without  stays  ;  they  are  not  beautiful. 

"  We  saw  a  great  deal  of  mud,  a  great  deal  of  dirt,  under 
the  waters  of  the  world  when  we  were  aground  for  a  time  on 
the  shoals  of  the  Maison  Vauquer.  What  we  saw  there  was 
nothing.  Since  I  have  gone  into  higher  society,  I  have  seen 
monsters  dressed  in  satin,  Michonneaus  in  white  gloves, 
Poirets  bedizened  with  orders,  fine  gentlemen  doing  more 
usurious  business  than  old  Gobseck  !  To  the  shame  of  man- 
kind, when  I  have  wanted  to  shake  hands  with  Virtue,  I  have 
found  her  shivering  in  a  loft,  persecuted  by  calumny,  half- 
starving  on  an  income  or  a  salary  of  fifteen  hundred  francs 
a  year,  and  regarded  as  crazy,  or  eccentric,  or  imbecile. 

*'  In  short,  my  dear  boy,  the  Marquise  is  a  woman  of 
fashion,  and  I  have  a  particular  horror  of  that  kind  of  woman. 
Do  you  want  to  know  why  ?  A  woman  who  has  a  lofty  soul, 
fine  taste,  gentle  wit,  a  generously  warm  heart,  and  who  lives 
a  simple  life,  has  not  a  chance  of  being  the  fashion.  Ergo : 
A  woman  of  fashion  and  a  man  in  power  are  analogous ;  but 
there  is  this  difference  :  the  qualities  by  which  a  man  raises 
himself  above  others  ennoble  him  and  are  a  glory  to  him ; 
whereas  the  qualities  by  which  a  woman  gains  power  for  a  day 
are  hideous  vices  ;  she  belies  her  nature  to  hide  her  character, 
and  to  live  the  militant  life  of  the  world  she  must  have  iron 
strength  under  a  frail  appearance. 

"  I,  as  a  physician,  know  that  a  sound  stomach  includes  a 
good  heart.  Your  woman  of  fashion  feels  nothing;  her  rage 
for  pleasure  has  its  source  in  a  longing  to  heat  up  her  cold 
nature,  a  craving  for  excitement  and  enjoyment,  like  an  old 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  287 

man  who  stands  night  after  night  by  the  footlights  at  the 
opera.  As  she  has  more  brain  than  heart,  she  sacrifices 
genuine  passion  and  true  friends  to  her  triumph,  as  a  general 
sends  his  most  devoted  subalterns  to  the  front  in  order  to  win 
a  battle.  The  woman  of  fashion  ceases  to  be  a  woman  ;  she 
is  neither  mother,  nor  wife,  nor  lover.  She  is,  medically 
speaking,  sex  in  the  brain.  And  your  Marquise,  too,  has  all 
the  characteristics  of  her  monstrosity,  the  beak  of  a  bird  of 
prey,  the  clear,  cold  eye,  the  gentle  voice — she  is  as  polished 
as  the  steel  of  a  machine,  she  touches  everything  except  the 
heart." 

"  There  is  some  truth  in  what  you  say,  Bianchon." 
"Some  truth?"  replied  Bianchon.  "It  is  all  true.  Do 
you  suppose  that  I  was  not  struck  to  the  heart  by  the  insulting 
politeness  by  which  she  made  me  measure  the  imaginary  dis- 
tance which  her  noble  birth  sets  between  us?  That  I  did  not 
feel  the  deepest  pity  for  her  cat-like  civilities  when  I  remem- 
bered what  her  object  was?  A  year  hence  she  will  not  write 
one  word  to  do  me  the  slightest  service,  and  this  evening  she 
pelted  me  with  smiles,  believing  that  I  can  influence  my  uncle 

Popinot,  on  whom  the  success  of  her  case " 

"  Would  you  rather  she  should  have  played  the  fool  with 
you,  my  dear  fellow?  I  accept  your  diatribe  against  women 
of  fashion ;  but  you  are  beside  the  mark.  I  should  always 
prefer  for  a  wife  a  Marquise  d'Espard  to  the  most  devout  and 
devoted  creature  on  earth.  Marry  an  angel !  you  would 
have  to  go  and  bury  your  happiness  in  the  deptlis  of  the 
country  !  The  wife  of  a  politician  is  a  governing  machine,  a 
contrivance  that  makes  compliments  and  courtesies.  She  is 
the  most  important  and  most  faithful  tool  which  an  ambitious 
man  can  use ;  a  friend,  in  short,  who  may  compromise  herself 
without  mischief,  and  whom  he  may  belie  without  harmful 
results.  Fancy  Mahomet  in  Paris  in  the  nineteenth  century  ! 
His  wife  would  be  a  Rohan,  a  Duchesse  de  Chevreuse  of  the 
Fronde,  as  keen  and  as  flattering  as  an  Ambassadress,  as  wily 


288  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

as  Figaro.  Your  loving  wives  lead  nowhere ;  a  woman  of 
the  world  leads  to  everything ;  she  is  the  diamond  with  which 
a  man  cuts  every  window  when  he  has  not  the  golden  key 
which  unlocks  every  door.  Leave  humdrum  virtues  to  the 
humdrum,  ambitious  vices  to  the  ambitious. 

"  Besides,  my  dear  fellow,  do  you  imagine  that  the  love  of  a 
Duchesse  de  Langeais,  or  de  Maufrigneuse,  or  of  a  Lady  Dud- 
ley does  not  bestow  immense  pleasure?  If  only  you  knew 
how  much  value  the  cold,  severe  style  of  such  women  gives  to 
the  smallest  evidence  of  their  affection  !  What  a  delight  it  is 
to  see  a  periwinkle  piercing  through  the  snow  !  A  smile  from 
below  a  fan  contradicts  the  reserve  of  an  assumed  attitude, 
and  is  worth  all  the  unbridled  tenderness  of  your  middle-class 
women  with  their  mortgaged  devotion  ;  for,  in  love,  devotion 
is  nearly  akin  to  speculation. 

"And,  then,  a  woman  of  fashion,  a  Blamont-Chauvry,  has 
her  virtues  too  !  Her  virtues  are  fortune,  power,  effect,  a  cer- 
tain contempt  of  all  that  is  beneaih  her " 

*'  Thank  you  !  "  said  Bianchon. 

"Old  curmudgeon  !"  said  Rastignac,  laughing.  "Come 
— do  not  be  common  ;  do  like  your  friend  Desplein  ;  be  a 
Baron,  a  Knight  of  Saint  Michael ;  become  a  peer  of  France, 
and  marry  your  daughters  to  dukes." 

"  I !     May  the  five  hundred  thousand  devils " 

"Come,  come!  Can  you  be  superior  only  in  medicine? 
Really,  you  distress  me " 

"  I  hate  that  sort  of  people ;  I  long  for  a  revolution  to  de- 
liver us  from  them  forever." 

"And  so,  my  dear  Robespierre  of  the  lancet,  you  will  not 
go  to-morrow  to  your  uncle  Popinot?  " 

"  Yes,  I  will,"  said  Bianchon  ;  "for  you  I  would  go  to  hell 
to  fetch  water " 

"  My  good  friend,  you  really  touch  me.  I  have  sworn  that 
a  commission  shall  sit  on  the  Marquis.  Why,  here  is  even  a 
long-saved  tear  to  thank  you." 


THE    COMMISSION  IM  LUNACY.  289 

"  But,"  Bianchon  went  on,  "  I  do  not  promise  to  succeed  as 
you  wish  with  Jean-Jules  Popinot.  You  do  not  know  him. 
However,  I  will  take  him  to  see  your  Marquise  the  day  after 
to-morrow ;  she  may  get  round  him  if  she  can.  I  doubt  it. 
If  all  the  truffles,  all  the  Duchesses,  all  the  mistresses,  and  all 
the  charmers  in  Paris  were  there  in  the  full  bloom  of  their 
beauty ;  if  the  King  promised  him  the  peerage,  and  the 
Almighty  gave  him  the  Order  of  Paradise  with  the  revenues 
of  Purgatory,  not  one  of  all  these  powers  would  induce  him 
to  transfer  a  single  straw  from  one  saucer  of  his  scales  into 
the  other.     He  is  a  judge,  as  Death  is  Death.*' 

The  two  friends  had  reached  tlie  office  of  the  Minister 
of  Foreign  Affairs,  at  the  corner  of  the  Boulevard  des 
Capucines. 

"Here  you  are  at  home,"  said  Bianchon,  laughing,  as  he 
pointed  to  the  ministerial  residence.  "And  here  is  my  car- 
riage," he  added,  calling  a  hackney  cab.  "And  these — ex- 
press our  fortune." 

"You  will  be  happy  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  while  I  am 
still  struggling  with  the  tempests  on  the  surface,  till  I  sink  and 
go  to  ask  you  for  a  corner  in  your  grotto,  old  fellow  !  " 

"Till  Saturday,"  replied  Bianchon. 

"Agreed,"  said  Rastignac.  "And  you  promise  me  Pop- 
inot?" 

"  I  will  do  all  my  conscience  will  allow.  Perhaps  this 
appeal  for  a  commission  covers  some  little  dramorama,  to  use 
a  word  of  our  good  bad  times." 

"  Poor  Bianchon  !  he  will  never  be  anything  but  a  good 
fellow,"  said  Rastignac  to  himself  as  the  cab  drove  off. 

"  Rastignac  has  given  me  the  most  difficult  negotiation  in 
the  world,"  said  Bianchon  to  himself,  remembering,  as  he 
rose  next  morning,  the  delicate  commission  intrusted  to  him. 
"  However,  I  have  never  asked  the  smallest  service  from  my 
uncle  in  court,  and  have  paid  more  than  a  thousand  visits 
19 


290  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

gratis  for  him.  And,  after  all,  we  are  not  apt  to  mince  mat- 
ters between  ourselves.  He  will  say  Yes  or  No,  and  there  is 
an  end." 

After  this  little  soliloquy  the  famous  physician  bent  his  steps, 
at  seven  in  the  morning,  towards  the  Rue  du  Fouarre,  where 
dwelt  Monsieur  Jean-Jules  Popinot,  Judge  of  the  Lower 
Court  of  the  Department  of  the  Seine.  The  Rue  du  Fouarre 
— an  old  word  meaning  straw — was  in  the  thirteenth  century 
the  most  important  street  in  Paris.  There  stood  the  Schools 
of  the  University,  where  the  voices  of  Abelard  and  of  Gerson 
were  heard  in  the  world  of  learning.  It  is  now  one  of  the 
dirtiest  streets  of  the  Twelfth  Arrondissement,  the  poorest 
quarter  of  Paris,  that  in  which  two-thirds  of  the  population 
lack  firing  in  winter,  which  leaves  most  brats  at  the  gate  of 
the  Foundling  Hospital,  which  sends  most  beggars  to  the 
poorhouse,  most  rag-pickers  to  the  street  corners,  most  de- 
crepit old  folks  to  bask  against  the  walls  on  which  the  sun 
shines,  most  delinquents  to  the  police  courts. 

Half-way  down  this  street,  which  is  always  damp,  and  where 
the  gutter  carries  to  the  Seine  the  blackened  waters  from  some 
dye-works,  there  is  an  old  house,  restored  no  doubt  under 
Francis  I.,  and  built  of  bricks  held  together  by  a  few  courses 
of  masonry.  That  it  is  substantial  seems  proved  by  the  shape 
of  its  front  wall,  not  uncommonly  seen  in  some  parts  of  Paris. 
It  bellies,  so  to  speak,  in  a  manner  caused  by  the  protuberance 
of  its  first  floor,  crushed  under  the  weight  of  the  second  and 
third,  but  upheld  by  the  strong  wall  of  the  ground  floor.  At 
first  sight  it  would  seem  as  though  the  piers  between  the  win- 
dows, though  strengthened  by  the  stone  mullions,  must  give 
way  ;  but  the  observer  presently  perceives  that,  as  in  the  tower 
at  Bologna,  the  old  bricks  and  old  time-eaten  stone  of  this 
house  persistently  preserve  their  centre  of  gravity. 

At  every  season  of  the  year  the  solid  piers  of  the  ground 
floor  have  the  yellow  tone  and  the  imperceptible  sweating  sur- 
face that  moisture  gives  to  stone.     The  passer-by  feels  chilled 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  291 

as  he  walks  close  to  this  wall,  where  worn  corner-stones  in- 
effectually shelter  him  from  the  wheels  of  vehicles.  As  is 
always  the  case  in  houses  built  before  carriages  were  in  use, 
the  vault  of  the  doorway  forms  a  very  low  archway  not  unlike 
the  barbican  of  a  prison.  To  the  right  of  this  entrance  are 
three  windows,  protected  outside  by  iron  gratings  of  so  close 
a  pattern  that  the  curious  cannot  possibly  see  the  use  made 
of  the  dark,  damp  rooms  within,  and  the  panes  too  are  dirty 
and  dusty;  to  the  left  are  two  similar  windows,  one  of  which 
is  sometimes  open,  exposing  to  view  the  porter,  his  wife  and  his 
children  ;  swarming,  working,  cooking,  eating,  and  screaming, 
in  a  floored  and  wainscoted  room  where  everything  is  drop- 
ping to  pieces,  and  into  which  you  descend  two  steps — a 
depth  which  seems  to  suggest  the  gradual  elevation  of  the  soil 
of  Paris. 

If  on  a  rainy  day  some  foot-passenger  takes  refuge  under 
the  long  vault,  with  projecting  lime-washed  beams,  which 
leads  from  the  door  to  the  staircase,  he  will  hardly  fail  to 
pause  and  look  at  the  picture  presented  by  the  interior  of  this 
house.  To  the  left  is  a  square  garden-plot,  allowing  of  not  more 
than  four  long  steps  in  each  direction,  a  garden  of  black  soil, 
with  trellises  bereft  of  vines,  and  where,  in  default  of  vegeta- 
tion, under  the  shade  of  two  trees,  papers  collect,  old  rags, 
potsherds,  bits  of  mortar  fallen  from  the  roof;  a  barren  ground, 
where  time  has  shed  on  the  walls,  and  on  the  trunks  and 
branches  of  the  trees,  a  powdery  deposit  like  cold  soot.  The 
two  parts  of  the  house,  set  at  a  right  angle,  derive  light  from 
this  garden-court  shut  in  by  two  adjoining  houses  built  on 
wooden  piers,  decrepit  and  ready  to  fall,  where  on  each  floor 
some  grotesque  evidence  is  to  be  seen  of  the  craft  pursued  by 
the  lodger  within.  Here  long  poles  are  hung  with  immense 
skeins  of  dyed  worsted  put  out  to  dry;  there  on  ropes  dance 
clean-washed  shirts ;  higher  up,  on  a  shelf,  volumes  display 
their  freshly-marbled  edges ;  women  sing,  husbands  whistle, 
children  shout ;  the  carpenter  saws  his  planks,  a  copper  turner 


292  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

makes  the  metal  screech ;  all  kinds  of  industries  combine  to 
produce  a  noise  which  the  number  of  instruments  renders  dis- 
tracting. 

The  general  system  of  decoration  in  this  passage,  which  is 
neither  courtyard,  garden,  nor  vaulted  way,  though  a  little  of 
all,  consists  of  wooden  pillars  resting  on  square  stone  blocks,  and 
forming  arches.  Two  archways  open  on  to  the  little  garden  ; 
two  others,  facing  the  front  gateway,  lead  to  a  wooden  stair- 
case, with  an  iron  balustrade  that  was  once  a  miracle  of 
smith's  work,  so  whimsical  are  the  shapes  given  to  the  metal; 
the  worn  steps  creak  under  every  tread.  The  entrance  to 
each  flat  has  an  architrave  dark  with  dirt,  grease,  and  dust, 
and  outer  doors,  covered  with  Utrecht  velvet  set  with  brass 
nails,  once  gilt,  in  a  diamond  pattern.  These  relics  of  splen- 
dor show  that  in  the  time  of  Louis  XIV.  the  house  was  the 
residence  of  some  Councilor  to  the  Parlement,  some  rich 
priests,  or  some  treasurer  of  the  ecclesiastical  revenue.  But 
these  vestiges  of  former  luxury  bring  a  smile  to  the  lips  by  the 
artless  contrast  of  past  and  present. 

M.  Jean-Jules  Popinot  lived  on  the  first  floor  of  this  house, 
where  the  gloom,  natural  to  all  first  floors  in  Paris  houses, 
was  increased  by  the  narrowness  of  the  street.  This  old 
tenement  was  known  to  all  the  Twelfth  Arrondissement,  on 
which  Providence  had  bestowed  this  lawyer,  as  it  gives  a 
beneficent  plant  to  cure  or  alleviate  every  malady.  Here  is  a 
sketch  of  the  man  whom  the  brilliant  Marquise  d'Espard 
hoped  to  fascinate. 

M.  Popinot,  as  is  seemly  for  a  magistrate,  wias  always  dressed 
in  black — a  style  which  contributed  to  make  him  ridiculous 
in  the  eyes  of  those  who  were  in  the  habit  of  judging  every- 
thing from  a  superficial  examination.  Men  who  are  jealous 
of  maintaining  the  dignity  required  by  this  color  ought  to 
devote  themselves  to  constant  and  minute  care  of  their  per- 
son ;  but  our  dear  M.  Popinot  was  incapable  of  forcing  him- 
self to  the  puritanical  cleanliness  which  black  demands.     His 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  293 

trousers,  always  threadbare,  looked  like  camlet — tlie  stuff  of 
which  attorneys'  gowns  are  made  \  and  his  habitual  stoop  set 
them,  in  time,  in  such  innumerable  creases  that  in  places  they 
were  traced  with  lines,  whitish,  rusty,  or  shiny,  betraying 
either  sordid  avarice  or  the  most  unheeding  poverty.  His 
coarse  worsted  stockings  were  twisted  anyhow  in  his  ill-shaped 
shoes.  His  linen  had  the  tawny  tinge  acquired  by  long 
sojourn  in  a  wardrobe,  showing  that  the  late  lamented  Mad- 
ame Popinot  had  had  a  mania  for  much  linen  ;  in  the  Flemish 
fashion,  perhaps,  she  had  given  herself  the  trouble  of  a  great 
wash  no  more  than  twice  a  year.  The  old  man's  coat  and 
waistcoat  were  in  harmony  with  his  trousers,  shoes,  stockings, 
and  linen.  He  always  had  the  luck  of  his  carelessness ;  for, 
the  first  day  he  put  on  a  new  coat,  he  unfailingly  matched  it 
with  the  rest  of  his  costume  by  staining  it  with  incredible 
promptitude.  The  good  man  waited  till  his  housekeeper  told 
him  that  his  hat  was  too  shabby  before  buying  a  new  one. 
His  necktie  was  always  crumpled  and  starchless,  and  he  never 
set  his  dog's-eared  shirt  collar  straight  after  his  judge's  bands 
had  disordered  it.  He  took  no  care  of  his  gray  hair,  and 
shaved  but  twice  a  week.  He  never  wore  gloves,  and  gener- 
ally kept  his  hands  stuffed  into  his  empty  trousers'  pockets ; 
the  soiled  pocket-holes,  almost  always  torn,  added  a  final 
touch  to  the  slovenliness  of  his  person. 

Any  one  who  knows  the  Palais  de  Justice  at  Paris,  where 
every  variety  of  black  attire  may  be  studied,  can  easily  imag- 
ine the  appearance  of  M.  Popinot.  The  habit  of  sitting  for 
days  at  a  time  modifies  the  structure  of  the  body,  just  as  the 
fatigue  of  hearing  interminable  pleadings  tells  on  the  expres- 
sion of  a  magistrate's  face.  Shut  up  as  he  is  in  courts  ridic- 
ulously small,  devoid  of  architectural  dignity,  and  where  the 
air  is  quickly  vitiated,  a  Paris  judge  inevitably  acquires  a 
countenance  puckered  and  seamed  by  reflection,  and  depressed 
by  weariness;  his  complexion  turns  pallid,  acquiring  an  earthy 
or  greenish  hue  according  to  his  individual  temperament.     In 


294  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

short,  within  a  given  time  the  most  blooming  young  man  is 
turned  into  an  "inasmuch"  machine — an  instrument  which 
applies  the  Code  to  individual  cases  with  the  indifference  of 
clock-work. 

Hence,  nature  having  bestowed  on  M.  Popinot  a  not  too 
pleasing  exterior,  his  life  as  a  lawyer  had  not  improved  it.  His 
frame  was  graceless  and  angular.  His  thick  knees,  huge  feet, 
and  broad  hands  formed  a  contrast  with  a  priest-like  face 
having  a  vague  resemblance  to  a  calf's  head,  meek  to  unmean- 
ingness,  and  but  little  brightened  by  divergent,  bloodless 
eyes,  divided  by  a  straight  flat  nose,  surmounted  by  a  flat 
forehead,  flanked  by  enormous  ears,  flabby  and  graceless.  His 
thin,  weak  hair  showed  the  baldness  through  various  irregular 
partings. 

One  feature  only  commended  this  face  to  the  physiog- 
nomist. This  man  had  a  mouth  to  whose  lips  divine  kindness 
lent  its  sweetness.  They  were  wholesome,  full,  red  lips,  finely 
wrinkled,  sinuous,  mobile,  by  which  nature  had  given  expres- 
sion to  noble  feeling  ;  lips  which  spoke  to  the  heart  and  pro- 
claimed the  man's  intelligence  and  lucidity,  a  gift  of  second 
sight,  and  a  heavenly  temper  ;  and  you  would  have  judged  him 
wrongly  from  looking  merely  at  his  sloping  forehead,  his  fire- 
less  eyes  and  his  shambling  gait.  His  life  answered  to  his 
countenance  ;  it  was  full  of  secret  labor,  and  hid  the  virtue 
of  a  saint.  His  superior  knowledge  of  law  proved  so  strong 
a  recommendation  at  the  time  when  Napoleon  was  reorganiz- 
ing it  in  1808  and  18 11,  that,  by  the  advice  of  Cambaceres,  he 
was  one  of  the  first  men  named  to  sit  on  the  Imperial  High  Court 
of  Justice  at  Paris.  Popinot  was  no  schemer.  Whenever  any 
demand  was  made,  any  request  preferred  for  an  appointment, 
the  Minister  would  overlook  Popinot,  who  never  set  foot  in 
the  house  of  the  High  Chancellor  or  the  Chief  Justice.  From 
the  High  Court  he  was  sent  down  to  the  Common  Court,  and 
pushed  to  the  lowest  rung  of  the  ladder  by  active  struggling 
men.     There  he  was  appointed  supernumerary  judge.     There 


THE    COMAflSSIOA'    IN  LUNACY.  295 

was  a  general  outcry  among  the  lawyers:  "  Popinot  a  super- 
numerary!" Such  injustice  struck  the  legal  world  with 
dismay — the  attorneys,  the  registrars,  everybody  but  Popinot 
himself,  who  made  no  complaint.  The  first  clamor  over, 
everybody  was  satisfied  that  all  was  for  the  best  in  the  best  of 
all  possible  worlds,  which  must  certainly  be  the  legal  world. 
Popinot  remained  suj^ernumerary  judge  till  the  day  when  the 
most  famous  Great  Seal  under  the  Restoration  avenged  the 
oversights  heaped  on  this  modest  and  uncomplaining  man  by 
the  Chief  Justices  of  the  Empire.  After  being  a  super- 
numerary for  twelve  years,  M.  Popinot  would  no  doubt  die  a 
puisne  judge  of  the  Court  of  the  Seine. 

To  account  for  the  obscure  fortunes  of  one  of  the  superior 
men  of  the  legal  profession,  it  is  necessary  to  enter  here  into 
some  details  which  will  serve  to  reveal  his  life  and  character, 
and  which  will,  at  the  same  time,  display  some  of  the  wheels 
of  the  great  machine  known  as  Justice.  M.  Popinot  was 
classed  by  the  three  presidents  who  successively  controlled  the 
Court  of  the  Seine  under  the  category  of  possible  judges,  the 
stuff  of  which  judges  are  made.  Thus  classified,  he  did  not 
achieve  the  reputation  for  capacity  which  his  previous  labors 
had  deserved.  Just  as  a  painter  is  invariably  included  in  a 
category  as  a  landscape  painter,  a  portrait  painter,  a  painter 
of  history,  of  sea  pieces,  or  of  genre,  by  a  public  consisting 
of  artists,  connoisseurs,  and  simpletons,  who,  out  of  envy,  or 
critical  omnipotence,  or  prejudice,  fence  in  his  intellect, 
assuming,  one  and  all,  that  there  are  ganglions  in  every  tyain 
— a  narrow  judgment  which  the  world  applies  to  writers,  to 
statesmen,  to  everybody  who  begins  with  some  specialty  before 
being  hailed  as  omniscient — so  Popinot's  fate  was  sealed,  and 
he  was  hedged  round  to  do  a  particular  kind  of  work.  Mag- 
istrates, attorneys,  pleaders,  all  who  pasture  on  the  legal 
common,  distinguish  two  elements  in  every  case — law  and 
equity.  Equity  is  the  outcome  of  facts,  law  is  the  application 
of  principles  to  facts.     A  man  may  be  right  in  equity  but 


296  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

wrong  in  law,  without  any  blame  to  the  judge.  Between  his 
conscience  and  the  facts  there  is  a  whole  gulf  of  determining 
reasons  unknown  to  the  judge,  but  which  condemn  or  legiti- 
mize the  act.  A  judge  is  not  God  ;  his  duty  is  to  adapt  facts 
to  principles,  to  judge  cases  of  infinite  variety  while  measur- 
ing them  by  a  fixed  standard. 

France  employs  about  six  thousand  judges ;  no  generation 
has  six  thousand  great  men  at  her  command,  much  less  can 
she  find  them  in  the  legal  profession.  Popinot,  in  the  midst 
of  the  civilization  of  Paris,  was  just  a  very  clever  cadi,  who, 
by  the  character  of  his  mind,  and  by  dint  of  rubbing  the 
letter  of  the  law  into  the  essence  of  facts,  had  learned  to  see 
the  error  of  spontaneous  and  violent  decisions.  By  the  help 
of  his  judicial  second-sight  he  could  pierce  the  double  casing 
of  lies  in  which  advocates  hide  the  heart  of  a  trial.  He  was 
a  judge,  as  the  great  Desplein  was  a  surgeon;  he  probed 
men's  consciences  as  the  anatomist  probed  their  bodies.  His 
life  and  habits  had  led  him  to  an  exact  appreciation  of  their 
most  secret  thoughts  by  a  thorough  studj-^  of  facts. 

He  sifted  a  case  as  Cuvier  sifted  the  earth's  crust.  Like 
that  great  thinker,  he  proceeded  from  deduction  to  deduction 
before  drawing  his  conclusions,  and  reconstructed  the  past 
career  of  a  conscience  as  Cuvier  reconstructed  an  Anoplo- 
therium.  When  considering  a  brief  he  would  often  wake  in 
the  night,  startled  by  a  gleam  of  truth  suddenly  sparkling  in 
his  brain.  Struck  by  the  deep  injustice,  which  is  the  end  of 
thes^  contests,  in  which  everything. is  against  the  honest  man, 
everything  to  the  advantage  of  the  rogue,  he  often  summed 
up  in  favor  of  equity  against  law  in  such  cases  as  bore  on 
questions  of  what  may  be  termed  divination.  Hence  he  was 
regarded  by  his  colleagues  as  a  man  not  of  a  practical  mind; 
his  arguments  on  two  lines  of  deduction  made  their  delibera- 
tions lengthy.  When  Popinot  observed  their  dislike  to  listen- 
ing to  him  he  gave  his  opinion  briefly  ;  it  was  said  that  he 
was  not  a  good  judge  in  this  class  of  cases  ;  but  as  his  gift  of 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  297 

discrimination  was  remarkable,  his  opinion  lucid,  and  his 
penetration  profound,  he  was  considered  to  have  a  special 
aptitude  for  the  laborious  duties  of  an  examining  judge.  So 
an  examining  judge  he  remained  during  the  greater  part  of 
his  legal  career. 

Although  his  qualifications  made  him  eminently  fitted  for 
its  difficult  functions,  and  he  liad  the  reputation  of  being  so 
learned  in  criminal  law  that  liis  duty  was  a  pleasure  to  liim, 
the  kindness  of  his  heart  constantly  kept  liim  in  torture,  and 
he  was  nipped  as  in  a  vise  between  his  conscience  and  his 
pity.  The  services  of  an  examining  judge  are  better  paid  than 
those  of  a  judge  in  civil  actions,  but  they  do  not  therefore 
prove  a  temptation;  they  are  too  onerous.  Popinot,  a  man 
of  modest  and  virtuous  learning,  without  ambition,  an  inde- 
fatigable worker,  never  complained  of  his  fate  ;  he  sacrificed 
his  tastes  and  his  compassionate  soul  to  the  public  good,  and 
allowed  himself  to  be  transported  to  the  noisome  pools  of 
criminal  examinations,  where  he  showed  himself  alike  severe 
and  beneficent.  His  clerk  sometimes  would  give  the  accused 
some  money  to  buy  tobacco,  or  a  warm  winter  garment,  as  he 
led  him  back  from  the  judge's  office  to  the  Souricilre,  the 
mouse-trap — the  House  of  Detention  where  the  accused  are 
kept  under  the  orders  of  the  Examining  Judge.  He  knew 
how  to  be  an  inflexible  judge  and  a  charitable  man.  And  no 
one  extracted  a  confession  so  easily  as  he  without  having 
recourse  to  judicial  trickery.  He  had,  too,  all  the  acumen 
of  an  observer.  This  man,  apparently  so  foolishly  good- 
natured,  simple,  and  absent-minded,  could  guess  all  the  cun- 
ning of  a  prison  wag,  unmask  the  astutest  street  hussy,  and 
subdue  a  scoundrel.  Unusual  circumstances  had  sharpened 
his  perspicacity  ;  but  to  relate  these  we  must  intrude  on  his 
domestic  history,  for  in  him  the  judge  was  the  social  side  of 
the  man  :  another  man,  greater  and  less  known,  existed  within. 

Twelve  years  before  the  beginning  of  this  story,  in  1816, 
during  the  terrible  scarcity  which  coincided  disastrously  with 


298  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

the  stay  in  France  of  the  so-called  Allies,  Popinot  was  ap- 
pointed President  of  the  Commission  Extraordinary  formed 
to  distribute  food  to  the  poor  of  his  neighborhood,  just  when 
he  had  planned  to  move  from  the  Rue  du  Fouarre,  which  he 
as  little  liked  to  live  in  as  his  wife  did.  The  great  lawyer, 
the  clear-sighted  criminal  judge,  whose  superiority  seemed  to  his 
colleagues  a  form  of  aberration,  had  for  five  years  been  watch- 
ing legal  results  without  seeing  their  causes.  As  he  scrambled 
up  into  lofts,  as  he  saw  the  poverty,  as  he  studied  the  desperate 
necessities  which  gradually  bring  the  poor  to  criminal  acts,  as 
he  estimated  their  long  struggles,  compassion  filled  his  soul. 
The  judge  then  became  the  Saint  Vincent  de  Paul  of  these 
grown-up  children,  these  suffering  toilers.  The  transforma- 
tion was  not  immediately  complete.  Beneficence  has  its 
temptations  as  vice  has.  Charity  consumes  a  saint's  purse,  as 
roulette  consumes  the  possessions  of  a  gambler,  quite  grad- 
ually. Popinot  went  from  misery  to  misery,  from  charity  to 
charity;  then,  by  the  time  he  had  lifted  all  the  rags  which 
cover  public  pauperism,  like  a  bandage  under  which  an  in- 
flamed wound  lies  festering,  at  the  end  of  a  year  he  had  be- 
come the  Providence  incarnate  of  that  quarter  of  the  town. 
He  was  a  member  of  the  Benevolent  Committee  and  of  the 
Charity  Organization.  Wherever  any  gratuitous  services  were 
needed  he  was  ready,  and  did  everything  without  fuss,  like 
the  man  with  the  short  cloak,  who  spends  his  life  in  carrying 
soup  round  the  markets  and  other  places  where  there  are 
starving  folks. 

Popinot  was  fortunate  in  acting  on  a  larger  circle  and  in  a 
higher  sphere ;  he  had  an  eye  on  everything,  he  prevented 
crime,  he  gave  work  to  the  unemployed,  he  found  a  refuge  for 
the  helpless,  he  distributed  aid  with  discernment  wherever 
danger  threatened,  he  made  himself  the  counselor  of  the 
widow,  the  protector  of  homeless  children,  the  sleeping 
partner  of  small  traders.  No  one  at  the  courts,  no  one  in 
Paris,  knew  of  this  secret  life  of  Popinot's.     There  are  vir- 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  299 

tues  SO  splendid  that  they  necessitate  obscurity;  men  make 
haste  to  hide  them  under  a  bushel.  As  to  those  whom  the 
lawyer  succored,  they,  hard  at  work  all  day  and  tired  at 
night,  were  little  able  to  sing  his  praises;  theirs  was  the 
gracelessness  of  children,  who  can  never  pay  because  they 
owe  too  much.  There  is  such  compulsory  ingratitude;  but 
what  heart  that  has  sown  good  to  reap  gratitude  can  think 
itself  great  ? 

By  the  end  of  the  second  year  of  his  apostolic  work,  Popi- 
not  had  turned  the  storeroom  at  the  bottom  of  his  house  into 
a  parlor,  lighted  by  the  three  iron-barred  windows.  The 
walls  and  ceiling  of  this  spacious  room  were  whitewashed,  and 
the  furniture  consisted  of  wooden  benches  like  those  seen  in 
schools,  a  clumsy  cupboard,  a  walnut-wood  writing-table,  and 
an  armchair  In  the  cupboard  were  his  registers  of  donations, 
his  tickets  for  orders  for  bread,  and  his  diary.  He  kept  his 
ledger  like  a  tradesman,  that  he  might  not  be  ruined  by  kind- 
ness. All  the  sorrows  of  the  neighborhood  were  entered  and 
numbered  in  a  book,  where  each  had  its  little  account,  as 
merchants'  customers  have  theirs.  When  there  was  any 
question  as  to  a  man  or  a  family  needing  help,  the  lawyer 
could  always  command  information  from  the  police. 

Lavienne,  a  man  made  for  his  master,  was  his  aide-de-camp. 
He  redeemed  or  renewed  pawn-tickets,  and  visited  the  dis- 
tricts most  threatened  with  famine,  while  his  master  was  in 
court. 

From  four  till  seven  in  the  morning  in  summer,  from  six 
till  nine  in  winter,  this  room  was  full  of  women,  children, 
and  paupers,  while  Popinot  gave  audience.  There  was  no 
need  for  a  stove  in  winter;  the  crowd  was  so  dense  that  the 
air  was  warmed  ;  only  Lavienne  strewed  straw  on  the  wet 
floor.  By  long  use  the  benches  were  as  polished  as  varnished 
mahogany;  at  the  height  of  a  man's  shoulders  the  wall  had  a 
coat  of  dark,  indescribable  color,  given  to  it  by  the  rags  and 
tattered  clothes  of  these  poor  creatures.     The  poor  wretches 


300  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

loved  Popinot  so  well  that  when  they  assembled  before  his 
door  was  opened,  before  daybreak  on  a  winter's  morning,  the 
women  warming  themselves  with  their  foot-brasiers,  the  men 
swinging  their  arms  for  circulation,  never  a  sound  had  dis- 
turbed his  sleep.  Rag-pickers  and  other  toilers  of  the  night 
knew  the  house,  and  often  saw  a  light  burning  in  the  lawyer's 
private  room  at  unholy  hours.  Even  thieves,  as  they  passed 
by,  said,  "That  is  his  house,"  and  respected  it.  The  morn- 
ing he  gave  to  the  poor,  the  mid-day  hours  to  criminals,  the 
evening  to  law  work. 

Thus  the  gift  of  observation  that  characterized  Popinot  was 
necessarily  bifrons ;  he  could  guess  the  virtues  of  a  pauper — 
good  feelings  nipped,  fine  actions  in  embryo,  unrecognized 
self-sacrifice,  just  as  he  could  read  at  the  bottom  of  a  man's 
conscience  the  faintest  outlines  of  a  crime,  the  slenderest 
threads  of  wrongdoing,  and  infer  all  the  rest. 

Popinot's  inherited  fortune  was  a  thousand  crowns  a  year. 
His  wife,  sister  to  M.  Bianchon,  senior,  a  doctor  at  Sancerre, 
had  brought  him  about  twice  as  much.  She,  dying  five  years 
since,  had  left  her  fortune  to  her  husband.  As  the  salary  of 
a  supernumerary  judge  is  not  large,  and  Popinot  had  been  a 
fully  salaried  judge  only  for  four  years,  we  may  guess  his 
reasons  for  parsimony  in  all  that  concerned  his  person  and 
mode  of  life,  when  we  consider  how  small  his  means  were  and 
how  great  his  beneficence.  Besides,  is  not  such  indifference 
to  dress  as  stamped  Popinot  an  absent-minded  man,  a  dis- 
tinguishing mark  of  scientific  attainment,  of  art  passionately 
pursued,  of  a  perpetually  active  mind?  To  complete  this 
portrait,  it  will  be  enough  to  add  that  Popinot  was  also  one 
of  the  few  judges  of  the  Court  of  the  Seine  on  whom  the 
distinguishing  ribbon  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  had  not  been 
conferred. 

Such  was  the  man  who  had  been  instructed  by  the  President 
of  the  Second  Chamber  of  the  Court — to  which  Popinot  had 
belonged  since  his  reinstatement  among  the  judges  in  civil 


THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  301 

law— to  examine  the  Marquis  d'Espard  at  the  request  of  his 
wife,  who  sued  for  a  Commission  in  Lunacy. 

The  Rue  du  Fouarre,  where  so  many  unliappy  wretches 
swarmed  in  the  early  morning,  would  be  deserted  by  nine 
o'clock,  and  as  gloomy  and  squalid  as  ever.  Bianchon  put 
his  horse  to  a  trot  in  order  to  find  his  uncle  in  the  midst  of 
his  business.  It  was  not  without  a  smile  that  he  thought  of 
the  curious  contrast  the  judge's  appearance  would  make  in 
Madame  d'Espard's  room  ;  but  he  promised  himself  that  he 
would  persuade  him  to  dress  in  a  way  that  should  not  be  too 
ridiculous. 

"If  only  my  uncle  happens  to  have  a  new  coat!  "  said 
Bianchon  to  himself,  as  he  turned  into  the  Rue  du  Fouarre, 
where  a  pale  light  shone  from  the  parlor  windows.  "I  shall 
do  well,  I  believe,  to  talk  that  over  with  Lavienne." 

At  the  sound  of  wheels  half  a  score  of  startled  paupers  came 
out  from  under  the  gateway,  and  took  off  their  hats  on  recog- 
nizing Bianchon  ;  for  the  doctor,  who  treated  gratuitously  the 
sick  recommended  to  him  by  the  lawyer,  was  not  less  well 
known  than  he  to  the  poor  creatures  assembled  there. 

Bianchon  found  his  uncle  in  the  middle  of  the  parlor, 
where  the  benches  were  occupied  by  patients  presenting  such 
grotesque  singularities  of  costume  as  would  have  made  the 
least  artistic  passer-by  turn  round  to  gaze  at  them.  A 
draughtsman — a  Rembrandt,  if  there  were  one  in  our  day — 
might  have  conceived  of  one  of  his  finest  compositions  from 
seeing  these  children  of  misery,  in  artless  attitudes,  and  all 
silent. 

Here  was  the  rugged  countenance  of  an  old  man  with  a 
white  beard  and  an  apostolic  head — a  Saint  Peter  ready  to 
hand ;  his  chest,  partly  uncovered,  showed  salient  muscles, 
the  evidence  of  an  iron  consititution  which  had  served  him  as 
a  fulcrum  to  resist  a  whole  poem  of  sorrows.  There  a  young 
woman  was  suckling  her  youngest-born  to  keep  it  from  crying, 
while  another  of  about  five  stood  between  her  knees.     Her 


302  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

white  bosom,  gleaming  amid  rags,  the  baby  with  its  trans- 
parent flesh-tints,  and  the  brother,  whose  attitude  promised  a 
street  arab  in  the  future,  touched  the  fancy  with  pathos  by  its 
almost  graceful  contrast  with  the  long  row  of  faces  crimson 
with  cold,  in  the  midst  of  which  sat  this  family  group. 
Further  away,  an  old  woman,  pale  and  rigid,  had  the  repul- 
sive look  of  rebellious  pauperism,  eager  to  avenge  all  its  past 
woes  in  one  day  of  violence. 

There,  again,  was  the  young  workman,  weakly  and  indolent, 
whose  brightly  intelligent  eye  revealed  fine  faculties  crushed 
by  necessity  struggled  with  in  vain,  saying  nothing  of  his 
sufferings,  and  nearly  dead  for  lack  of  an  opportunity  to 
squeeze  between  the  bars  of  the  vast  stews  where  the  wretched 
swim  round  and  round  and  devour  each  other. 

The  majority  were  women  ;  their  husbands,  gone  to  their 
work,  left  it  to  them,  no  doubt,  to  plead  the  cause  of  the 
family  with  the  ingenuity  which  characterizes  the  woman  of 
the  people,  who  is  almost  always  queen  in  her  hovel.  You 
would  have  seen  a  torn  bandana  on  every  head,  on  every  form 
a  skirt  deep  in  mud,  ragged  kerchiefs,  worn  and  dirty  jackets, 
but  eyes  that  burnt  like  live  coals.  It  was  a  horrible  assem- 
blage, raising  at  first  sight  a  feeling  of  disgust,  but  giving  a 
certain  sense  of  terror  the  instant  you  perceived  that  the 
resignation  of  these  souls,  all  engaged  in  the  struggle  for 
every  necessary  of  life,  was  purely  fortuitous,  a  speculation 
on  benevolence.  The  two  tallow  candles  which  lighted  the 
parlor  flickered  in  a  sort  of  fog  caused  by  the  fetid  atmos- 
phere of  the  ill-ventilated  room. 

The  magistrate  himself  was  not  the  least  picturesque  figure 
in  the  midst  of  this  assembly.  He  had  on  his  head  a  rusty 
cotton  night-cap ;  as  he  had  no  cravat,  his  neck  was  visible, 
red  with  cold  and  wrinkled,  in  contrast  with  the  threadbare 
collar  of  his  old  dressing-gown.  His  worn  face  had  the  half- 
stupid  look  that  comes  of  absorbed  attention.  His  lips,  like 
those  of  all  men  who  work,  were  puckered  up  like  a  bag  with 


THE    COMMISSION  IX  LUNACY.  303 

the  Strings  drawn  tight.  His  knitted  brows  seemed  to  beat 
the  burden  of  all  the  sorrows  confided  to  him  :  he  felt,  anal- 
yzed, and  judged  them  all.  As  watchful  as  a  Jew  money- 
lender, he  never  raised  his  eyes  from  his  books  and  registers 
but  to  look  into  the  very  heart  of  the  persons  he  was  examin- 
ing, with  the  flashing  glance  by  which  a  miser  expresses  his 
alarm. 

Lavienne,  standing  behind  his  master,  ready  to  carry  out 
his  orders,  served  no  doubt  as  a  sort  of  police,  and  welcomed 
new-comers  by  encouraging  them  to  get  over  their  shyness. 
When  the  doctor  appeared  there  was  a  stir  on  the  benches. 
Lavienne  turned  his  head,  and  was  strangely  surprised  to 
see  Bianchon. 

"Ah  !  It  is  you,  old  boy  !  "  exclained  Popinot,  stretching 
himself.     "What  brings  you  so  early  ?  " 

"  I  was  afraid  lest  you  should  make  an  official  visit  about 
which  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  before  I  could  see  you." 

"Well,"  said  the  lawyer,  addressing  a  stout  little  woman 
who  was  still  standing  close  to  him,  "if  you  do  not  tell  me 
what  it  is  you  want,  I  cannot  guess  it,  child." 

"Make  haste,"  said  Lavienne.  "Do  not  waste  other 
people's  time." 

"  Monsieur,"  said  the  woman  at  last,  turning  red,  and 
speaking  so  low  as  only  to  be  heard  by  Popinot  and  Lavienne, 
"  I  have  a  green-grocery  truck,  and  I  have  my  last  baby  out 
at  nurse,  and  I  owe  for  his  keep.  Well,  I  had  hidden  my 
little  bit  of  money " 

"Yes;  and  your  man  took  it?  "  said  Popinot,  guessing  the 
sequel. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  What  is  your  name?  " 

"  La  Pomponne," 

"And  your  husband's?" 

"Toupinet." 

"Rue  du  Petit-Banquier ?  "  said  Popinot,  turning  over  his 


304  THE   COMMISSION  IN  lUNACY. 

register.  "  He  is  in  prison,"  he  added,  reading  a  note  at  the 
margin  of  the  section  in  which  this  family  was  described. 

"  For  debt,  my  kind  monsieur." 

Popinot  shook  his  head. 

"But  I  have  nothing  to  buy  any  stock  for  my  truck;  the 
landlord  came  yesterday  and  made  me  pay  up ;  otherwise  I 
should  have  been  turned  out." 

Lavienne  bent  over  his  master,  and  whispered  in  his  ear. 

"  Well,  how  much  do  you  want  to  buy  fruit  in  the  market  ?  " 

"  Why,  my  good  monsieur,  to  carry  on  my  business,  I 
should  want — yes,  I  should  certainly  want  ten  francs." 

Popinot  signed  to  Lavienne,  who  took  ten  francs  out  of  a 
large  bag,  and  handed  them  to  the  woman,  while  the  lawyer 
made  a  note  of  the  loan  in  his  ledger.  As  he  saw  the  thrill 
of  delight  that  made  the  poor  hawker  tremble,  Bianchon 
understood  the  apprehensions  that  must  have  agitated  her  on 
her  way  to  the  lawyer's  house. 

"  You  next,"  said  Lavienne  to  the  old  man  with  the  white 
beard. 

Bianchon  drew  the  servant  aside,  and  asked  him  how  long 
this  audience  would  last. 

"  Monsieur  has  had  two  hundred  persons  this  morning,  and 
there  are  eighty  to  be  turned  off,"  said  Lavienne.  "You 
will  have  time  to  pay  your  early  visit,  sir." 

"  Here,  my  boy,"  said  the  lawyer,  turning  round  and  tak- 
ing Horace  by  the  arm  ;  "  here  are  two  addresses  near  this — 
one  in  the  Rue  de  Seine  and  the  other  in  the  Rue  de  I'Arbalete. 
Go  there  at  once.  Rue  de  Seine,  a  young  girl  has  just  asphyx- 
iated herself;  and  Rue  de  I'Arbalete,  you  will  find  a  man  to 
remove  to  your  hospital.     I  will  wait  breakfast  for  you." 

Bianchon  returned  an  hour  later.  The  Rue  du  Fouarrewas 
deserted ;  day  was  beginning  to  dawn  there  ;  his  uncle  had 
gone  up  to  his  rooms  ;  the  last  poor  wretch  whose  misery  the 
judge  had  relieved  was  departing,  and  Lavienne's  money-bag 
was  empty. 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  305 

**  Well,  how  are  they  getung  on?  "  asked  the  old  lawyer, 
as  the  doctor  came  in. 

"The  man  is  dead,"  replied  Bianchonj   "  the  girl  will  get 
over  it." 

Since  the  eye  and  hand  of  a  woman  had  been  lacking,  the 
flat  in  which  Popinot  lived  had  assumed  an  aspect  in  harmony 
with  its  master's.  The  indifference  of  a  man  who  is  absorbed 
in  one  dominant  idea  had  set  its  stamp  of  eccentricity  on 
everything.  Everywhere  lay  unconquerable  dust,  every  object 
was  adapted  to  a  wrong  purpose  with  a  pertinacity  suggestive 
of  a  bachelor's  home.  There  were  papers  in  the  flower  vases, 
empty  ink  bottles  on  the  tables,  plates  that  had  been  forgotten, 
matches  used  as  tapers  for  a  minute  when  something  had  to 
be  found,  drawers  or  boxes  half-turned  out  and  left  unfinished  ; 
in  short,  all  the  confusion  and  vacancies  resulting  from  plans 
for  order  never  carried  out.  The  lawyer's  private  room, 
especially  disordered  by  this  incessant  rummage,  bore  witness 
to  his  unresting  pace,  the  hurry  of  a  man  overwhelmed  with 
business,  hunted  by  contradictory  necessities.  The  bookcase 
looked  as  if  it  had  been  sacked  ;  there  were  books  scattered 
over  everything,  some  piled  up,  open,  one  on  another,  others 
on  the  floor  face  downwards  ;  registers  of  proceedings  laid  on 
the  floor  in  rows,  lengthwise,  in  front  of  the  shelves ;  and  that 
floor  had  not  been  polished  for  two  years. 

The  tables  and  shelves  were  covered  with  ex  votos,  the 
off"erings  of  the  grateful  poor.  On  a  pair  of  blue  glass  jars 
which  ornamented  the  chimney-shelf  there  were  two  glass 
balls,  of  which  the  core  was  made  up  of  many  colored  frag- 
ments, giving  them  the  appearance  of  some  singular  natural 
product.  Against  the  wall  hung  frames  of  artificial  flowers, 
and  decorations  in  which  Popinot's  initials  were  surrounded 
by  hearts  and  everlasting  flowers.  Here  were  boxes  of  elabo- 
rate and  useless  cabinet-work ;  there  letter-weights  carved  in 
the  style  of  work  done  by  convicts  in  penal  servitude.  These 
masterpieces  of  patience,  enigmas  of  gratitude,  and  withered 
20 


306  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

bouquets  gave  the  lawyer's  room  the  appearance  of  a  toyshop. 
The  good  man  used  these  works  of  art  as  hiding-places  which 
he  filled  with  bills,  wornout  pens,  and  scraps  of  paper.  All 
these  pathetic  witnesses  to  his  divine  charity  were  thick  with 
dust,  dingy,  and  faded. 

Some  birds,  beautifully  stuffed,  but  eaten  by  moths,  perched 
in  this  wilderness  of  trumpery,  presided  over  by  an  Angora 
cat,  Madame  Popinot's  pet,  restored  to  her  no  doubt  with  all 
the  graces  of  life  by  some  impecunious  naturalist,  who  thus 
repaid  a  gift  of  charity  with  a  perennial  treasure.  Some  local 
artist  whose  heart  had  misguided  his  brush  had  painted  por- 
traits of  M.  and  Madame  Popinot,  Even  in  the  bedroom 
there  were  embroidered  pincushions,  landscapes  in  cross-stitch, 
and  crosses  in  folded  paper,  so  elaborately  cockled  as  to  show 
the  senseless  labor  they  had  cost. 

The  window  curtains  were  black  with  smoke,  and  the  hang- 
ings absolutely  colorless.  Between  the  fireplace  and  the  large 
square  table  at  which  the  magistrate  worked,  the  cook  had  set 
two  cups  of  coffee  on  a  small  table,  and  two  armchairs,  in 
mahogany  and  horsehair,  awaited  the  uncle  and  nephew.  As 
daylight,  darkened  by  the  windows,  could  not  penetrate  to 
this  corner,  the  cook  had  left  two  dips  burning,  whose  un- 
snuffed  wicks  showed  a  sort  of  mushroom  growth,  giving  the 
red  light  which  promises  length  of  life  to  the  candle  from 
slowness  of  combustion — a  discovery  due,  no  doubt,  to  some 
miser  with  an  inventive  turn  of  mind. 

*'  My  dear  uncle,  you  ought  to  wrap  yourself  more  warmly 
when  you  go  down  to  that  parlor," 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  keep  them  waiting,  poor  souls  ! Well, 

and  what  do  you  want  of  me  ?  " 

"I  have  come  to  ask  you  to  dine  to-morrow  with  the 
Marquise  d'Espard." 

"A  relation  of  ours?"  asked  Popinot,  with  such  genuine 
absence  of  mind  that  Bianchon  laughed. 

**  No,  uncle ;  the  Marquise  d'Espard  is  a  high  and  puissant 


THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  307 

lady,  who  has  laid  before  the  courts  a  petition  desiring  that  a 
Commission  in  Lunacy  should  sit  on  her  husband,  and  you  are 
appointed " 

"  And  you  want  me  to  dine  with  her  !  Are  you  mad  ?  "  said 
the  lawyer,  taking  up  the  code  of  proceedings.  "  Here,  only 
read  this  article,  prohibiting  any  magistrate's  eating  or  drink- 
ing in  the  house  of  either  of  two  parties  whom  he  is  called 
upon  to  decide  between.  Let  her  come  and  see  me,  your 
Marquise,  if  she  has  anything  to  say  to  me.  I  was  in  fact 
to  go  to  examine  her  husband  to-morrow,  after  working  the 
case  up  to-night." 

He  rose,  took  up  a  packet  of  papers  that  lay  under  a  weight 
where  he  could  see  it,  and  after  reading  the  title,  he  said — 

"Here  is  the  affidavit.  Since  you  take  an  interest  in  this 
high  and  puissant  lady,  let  us  see  what  she  wants." 

Popinot  wrapped  his  dressing-gown  across  his  body,  from 
which  it  was  constantly  slipping  and  leaving  his  chest  bare; 
he  sopped  his  bread  in  the  half-cold  coffee,  and  opened  the 
petition,  which  he  read,  allowing  himself  to  throw  in  a  paren- 
thesis now  and  then,  and  some  discussions,  in  which  his 
nephew  took  part : 

** '  To  Monsieur  the  President  of  the  Civil  Tribunal  of  the 
Lower  Court  of  the  Department  of  the  Seine,  sitting  at  the 
Palais  de  Justice. 

"'Madame  Jeanne  Clementine  Athenais  de  Blamont- 
Chauvry,  wife  of  M.  Charles  Maurice  Marie  Andoche,  Comte 
de  Negrepelisse,  Marquis  d'Espard  ' — a  very  good  family — 
'landowner,  the  said  Mme.  d'Espard  living  in  the  Rue  du 
Faubourg  Saint-Honore,  No.  104,  and  the  said  M.  d'Espard 
in  the  Rue  de  la  Montagne-Sainte-Genevieve,  No.  22  ' — to  be 
sure,  the  President  told  me  he  lived  in  this  part  of  the  town — 
*  having  for  her  solicitor  Maitre  Desroches  ' — Desroches  !  a 
pettifogging  jobber,  a  man  looked  down  upon  by  his  brother 
lawyers,  and  who  does  his  clients  no  good " 

"Poor  fellow!"   said   Bianchon,   "unluckily   he   has  no 


208  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

money,  and  he  rushes  round  like  the  devil  in  holy  water — 
That  is  all." 

"  *  Has  the  honor  to  submit  to  you,  Monsieur  the  President, 
that  for  a  year  past  the  moral  and  intellectual  powers  of  her 
husband,  M.  d'Espard,  have  undergone  so  serious  a  change, 
that  at  the  present  day  they  have  reached  the  state  of  dementia 
and  idiotcy  provided  for  by  Article  448  of  the  Civil  Code, 
and  require  the  application  of  the  remedies  set  forth  by  that 
article,  for  the  security  of  his  fortune  and  his  person,  and  to 
guard  the  interest  of  his  children  whom  he  keeps  to  live  with 
him. 

"'That,  in  point  of  fact,  the  mental  condition  of  M. 
d'Espard,  which  for  some  years  has  given  grounds  for  alarm 
based  on  the  system  he  has  pursued  in  the  management  of  his 
affairs,  has  reached,  during  the  last  twelvemonth  a  deplorable 
depth  of  depression  ;  that  his  infirm  will  was  the  first  thing  to 
show  the  results  of  the  malady ;  and  that  its  effete  state  leaves 
M.  the  Marquis  d'Espard  exposed  to  all  the  perils  of  his  incom- 
petency, as  is  proved  by  the  following  facts  : 

"  '  For  a  long  time  all  the  income  accruing  from  M.  d'Es- 
pard's  estates  are  paid,  without  any  reasonable  cause,  or  even 
temporary  advantage,  into  the  hands  of  an  old  woman,  whose 
repulsive  ugliness  is  generally  remarked  on,  named  Madame 
Jeanrenaud,  living  sometimes  in  Paris,  Rue  de  la  Vrilliere, 
No.  8,  sometimes  at  Villeparisis,  near  Claye,  in  the  Depart- 
ment of  Seine  et  Marne,  and  for  the  benefit  of  her  son,  aged 
thirty-six,  an  officer  in  the  ex-Imperial  Guards,  whom  the 
Marquis  d'Espard  has  placed  by  his  influence  in  the  King's 
Guards,  as  Major  in  the  First  Regiment  of  Cuirassiers.  These 
two  persons,  who  in  1814  were  in  extreme  poverty,  have  since 
then  purchased  house-property  of  considerable  value ;  among 
other  items,  quite  recently,  a  large  house  in  the  Grande  Rue 
Verte,  where  the  said  Jeanrenaud  is  laying  out  considerable 
sums  in  order  to  settle  there  with  the  woman  Jeanrenaud, 
intending  to  marry ;  the  sums  amount  already  to  more  than  a 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  309 

hundred  thousand  francs.  The  marriage  lias  been  arranged 
by  the  intervention  of  M.  d'Espard  with  his  banker,  one 
Mongenod,  whose  niece  he  lias  asked  in  marriage  for  the  said 
Jeanrenaud,  promising  to  use  his  influence  to  procure  him  the 
title  and  dignity  of  Baron.  This  has  in  fact  been  secured  by 
his  majesty's  letters-patent,  dated  December  29th  of  last  year, 
at  the  request  of  the  Marquis  d'Espard,  as  can  be  proved  by 
his  excellency  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  if  the  court  should 
think  proper  to  require  his  testimony. 

"'That  no  reason,  not  even  such  as  morality  and  the  law 
would  concur  in  disapproving,  can  justify  the  influence  which 
the  said  Mme.  Jeanrenaud  exerts  over  M.  d'Espard,  who,  in- 
deed, sees  her  very  seldom ;  nor  account  for  his  strange  affection 
for  the  said  Baron  Jeanrenaud,  Major,  with  whom  he  has  but 
little  intercourse.  And  yet  their  power  is  so  considerable, 
that  whenever  they  need  money,  if  only  to  gratify  a  mere 

whim,  this  lady  or  her  son '   Heh,  heh  !   no  reason  even 

such  as  morality  and  the  law  concur  in  disapproving !  Wliat 
does  the  clerk  or  the  attorney  mean  to  insinuate?"  said  Pop- 
inot. 

Bianchon  laughed. 

*'  'This  lady,  or  her  son,  obtain  whatever  they  ask  of  the 
Marquis  d'Espard  without  demur;  and  if  he  has  not  ready 
money,  M.  d'Espard  draws  bills  to  be  paid  by  the  said  Mon- 
genod, who  has  offered  to  give  evidence  to  that  effect  for  the 
petitioner. 

"'That,  moreover,  in  further  proof  of  these  facts,  lately, 
on  the  occasion  of  the  renewal  of  the  leases  on  the  Espard 
estate,  the  farmers  having  paid  a  considerable  premium  for  the 
renewal  of  their  leases  on  the  old  terms,  the  said  M.  Jean- 
renaud at  once  secured  the  payment  of  the  money  into  his 
own  hands. 

•"That  the  Marquis  d'Espard  parts  with  these  sums  of 
money  so  little  of  his  own  free-will,  that  when  he  was  spoken 
to  on  the  subject  he  seemed  to  remember  nothing  of  the 


310  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

matter ;  that  whenever  anybody  of  any  weight  has  questioned 
him  as  to  his  devotion  to  these  two  persons,  his  replies  have 
shown  so  complete  an  absence  of  ideas  and  of  sense  of  his  own 
interests,  that  there  obviously  must  be  some  occult  cause  at 
work  to  which  the  petitioner  begs  to  direct  the  eye  of  justice, 
inasmuch  as  it  is  impossible  but  that  this  cause  should  be 
criminal,  malignant,  and  wrongful,  or  else  of  a  nature  to  come 
under  medical  jurisdiction  \  unless  this  influence  is  of  the  kind 
which  constitutes  an  abuse  of  moral  power — such  as  can  only 
be  described  by  the  word  possession '  The  devil,"  ex- 
claimed Popinot.  "  What  do  you  say  to  that,  doctor  ?  These 
are  strange  statements." 

"They  might  certainly,"  said  Bianchon,  "  be  an  effect  of 
magnetic  force." 

"  Then  do  you  believe  in  Mesmer's  nonsense,  and  his  tub, 
and  seeing  through  walls?  " 

"Yes,  uncle,"  said  the  doctor  gravely.  "As  I  heard  you 
read  that  petition  I  thought  of  that.  I  assure  you  that  I  have 
verified,  in  another  sphere  of  action,  several  analogous  facts 
proving  the  unlimited  influence  one  man  may  acquire  over 
another.  In  contradiction  to  the  opinion  of  my  brethren,  I 
am  perfectly  convinced  of  the  power  of  the  will  regarded  as  a 
motor  force.  All  collusion  and  charlatanism  apart,  I  have 
seen  the  results  of  such  a  possession.  Actions  promised  dur- 
ing sleep  l)y  a  magnetized  patient  to  the  magnetizer  have  been 
scrupulously  performed  on  waking.  The  will  of  one  had 
become  the  will  of  the  other." 

"  Every  kind  of  action  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Even  a  criminal  act  ?  " 

"Even  a  crime." 

"If  it  were  not  from  you,  I  would  not  listen  to  such  a 
thing." 

"  I  will  make  you  witness  it,"  said  Bianchon. 

"Hm,  hm,"  muttered  the  lawyer.     "But  supposing  that 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  311 

this  so-called  possession  fell  under  this  class  of  facts,  it  would 
be  difficult  to  prove  it  as  legal  evidence." 

**  If  this  woman  Jeanrenaud  is  so  hideously  old  and  ugly,  I 
do  not  see  what  other  means  of  fascination  she  can  have  used," 
observed  Bianchon. 

"But,"  observed  the  lawyer,  "in  1814,  the  time  at  which 
this  fascination  is  supposed  to  have  taken  place,  this  woman 
was  fourteen  years  younger;  if  she  had  been  connected  with 
M.  d'Espard  ten  years  before  that,  these  calculations  take  us 
back  four-and-twenty  years,  to  a  time  when  the  lady  may  have 
been  young  and  pretty,  and  have  won  for  herself  and  her  son 
a  power  over  M.  d'Espard  which  some  men  do  not  know  how 
to  evade.  Though  the  source  of  this  power  is  reprehensible 
in  the  sight  of  justice,  it  is  justifiable  in  the  eye  of  nature. 
Madame  Jeanrenaud  may  have  been  aggrieved  by  the  mar- 
riage, contracted  probably  at  about  that  time,  between  the 
Marquis  d'Espard  and  Mademoiselle  de  Blamont-Chauvry, 
and  at  the  bottom  of  all  this  there  may  be  nothing  more  than 
the  rivalry  of  two  women,  since  the  Marquis  has  for  a  long 
time  lived  apart  from  Mme.  d'Espard." 

"But  her  repulsive  ugliness,  uncle." 

"  Power  of  fascination  is  in  direct  proportion  to  ugliness," 
said  the  lawyer;  "that  is  an  old  story.  And  then  think  of 
the  smallpox,  doctor.     But  to  proceed  : 

"'That  so  long  ago  as  in  1815,  in  order  to  supply  the 
sums  of  money  required  by  these  two  persons,  the  Marquis 
d'Espard  went  with  his  two  children  to  live  in  the  Rue  de  la 
Montagne-Sainte-Genevieve,  in  rooms  quite  unworthy  of  his 
name  and  rank  ' — well,  we  may  live  as  we  please — '  that  he 
keeps  his  two  children  there,  the  Comte  Clement  d'Espard 
and  Vicomte  Camille  d'Espard,  in  a  style  of  living  quite 
unsuited  to  their  future  prospects,  their  name  and  fortune  ; 
that  he  often  wants  money,  to  such  a  point,  that  not  long 
since  the  landlord,  one  Mariast,  put  in  an  execution  on  the 
furniture  in  the  rooms ;  that  when  this  execution  was  carried 


312  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

out  in  his  presence,  the  Marquis  d'Espard  helped  the  bailiff, 
whom  he  treated  like  a  man  of  rank,  paying  him  all  the  marks 
of  attention  and  respect  which  he  would  have  shown  to  a 
person  of  superior  birth  and  dignity  to  himself.'  " 

The  uncle  and  nephew  glanced  at  each  other  and  laughed. 

"  '  That,  moreover,  every  act  of  his  life,  besides  the  facts 
with  reference  to  the  widow  Jeanrenaud  and  the  Baron 
Jeanrenaud,  her  son,  are  those  of  a  madman ;  that  for  nearly 
ten  years  he  has  given  his  thoughts  exclusively  to  China,  its 
customs,  manners,  and  history  \  that  he  refers  everything  to  a 
Chinese  origin ;  that  when  he  is  questioned  on  the  subject,  he 
confuses  the  events  of  the  day  and  the  business  of  yesterday 
with  facts  relating  to  China ;  that  he  censures  the  acts  of  the 
government  and  the  conduct  of  the  King,  though  he  is 
personally  much  attached  to  him,  by  comparing  them  with  the 
politics  of  China. 

"  'That  this  monomania  has  driven  the  Marquis  d'Espard 
to  conduct  devoid  of  all  sense :  against  the  customs  of  men 
of  rank,  and,  in  opposition  to  his  own  professed  ideas  as  to 
the  duties  of  the  nobility,  he  has  joined  a  commercial  under- 
taking, for  which  he  constantly  draws  bills  which,  as  they  fall 
due,  threaten  both  his  honor  and  his  fortune,  since  they 
stamp  him  as  a  trader,  and  in  default  of  payment  may  lead  to 
his  being  declared  insolvent  ;  that  these  debts,  which  are 
owing  to  stationers,  printers,  lithographers,  and  print-colorists, 
who  have  supplied  the  materials  for  his  publication,  called 
"  A  Picturesque  History  of  China,"  now  coming  out  in  parts, 
are  so  heavy  that  these  tradesmen  have  requested  the  peti- 
tioner to  apply  for  a  Commission  in  Lunacy  with  regard  to  the 
Marquis  d'Espard  in  order  to  save  their  own  credit.' " 

"The  man  is  mad  !  "  exclaimed  Bianchon. 

"You  think  so,  do  you?"  said  his  uncle.  "  If  you  listen 
to  only  one  bell,  you  hear  only  one  sound." 

"  But  it  seems  to  me "  said  Bianchon. 

"  Put  it  seems  tp  me,"  said  Popinot,  *'  that  if  any  relation 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  313 

of  mine  wanted  to  get  hold  of  the  management  of  my  affairs, 
and  if,  instead  of  being  a  humble  lawyer,  whose  colleagues 
can,  any  day,  verify  what  his  condition  is,  I  were  a  duke  of 
the  realm,  an  attorney  with  a  little  cunning,  like  Desroches, 
might  bring  just  such  a  petition  aginst  me. 

"'That  his  children's  education  has  been  neglected  for 
this  monomania  ;  and  that  he  has  taught  them,  against  all  the 
rules  of  education,  the  facts  of  Chinese  history,  which  con- 
tradict the  tenets  of  the  Catholic  Church.  He  also  has  them 
taught  the  Chinese  dialects.'  " 

"  Here  Desroches  strikes  me  as  funny,"  said  Bianchon. 

"The  petition  is  drawn  up  by  his  head  clerk  Godeschal, 
who,  as  you  know,  is  not  strong  in  Chinese,"  said  the  lawyer. 

"  *  That  he  often  leaves  his  children  destitute  of  the  most 
necessary  things;  that  the  petitioner,  notwithstanding  her 
entreaties,  can  never  see  them  ;  that  the  said  Marquis  d'Es- 
pard  brings  them  to  her  only  once  a  year;  that,  knowing  the 
privations  to  which  they  are  exposed,  she  makes  vain  efforts 
to  give  them  the  things  most  necessary  for  their  existence, 

and  which  they  require '      Oh  !    Madame  la  Marquise, 

this  is  preposterous.  By  proving  too  much  you  prove 
nothing.  My  dear  boy,"  said  the  old  man,  laying  the 
document  on  his  knee,  "  where  is  the  mother  who  ever  lacked 
heart  and  wit  and  yearning  to  such  a  degree  as  to  fall  below 
the  inspiration  suggested  by  her  animal  instinct?  A  mother 
is  as  cunning  to  get  at  her  children  as  a  girl  can  be  in  the 
conduct  of  a  love  intrigue.  If  your  Marquise  really  wanted  to 
give  her  children  food  and  clothes,  the  devil  himself  would 
not  have  hindered  her,  heh  ?  That  is  rather  too  big  a  fable 
for  an  old  lawyer  to  swallow  ?     To  proceed  : 

*'  '  That  at  the  age  the  said  children  have  now  attained  it  is 
necessary  that  steps  should  be  taken  to  preserve  them  from  the 
evil  effects  of  such  an  education  ;  that  they  should  be  provided 
for  as  beseems  their  rank,  and  that  they  should  cease  to  have 
before  their  eyes  the  sad  example  of  their  father's  conduct. 


314  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

"  '  That  there  are  proofs  in  support  of  these  allegations 
which  the  court  can  easily  order  to  be  produced.  Many 
times  has  M.  d'Espard  spoken  of  the  judge  of  the  Twelfth 
Arrondissement  as  a  mandarin  of  the  third  class ;  he  often 
speaks  of  the  professors  of  the  College  Henri  IV.  as  "  men  of 
letters'" — and  that  offends  them!  'In  speaking  of  the 
simplest  things,  he  says,  "  They  were  not  done  so  in  China;" 
in  the  course  of  the  most  ordinary  conversation  he  will  some- 
times allude  to  Madame  Jeanrenaud,  or  sometimes  to  events 
which  happened  in  the  time  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  then  sit 
plunged  in  the  darkest  melancholy ;  sometimes  he  fancies  he 
is  in  China.  Several  of  his  neighbors,  among  others  one  Edme 
Becker,  medical  student,  and  Jean  Baptiste  Fremiot,  a  profes- 
sor, living  under  the  same  roof,  are  of  opinion,  after  frequent 
intercourse  with  the  Marquis  d'Espard,  that  his  monomania 
with  regard  to  everything  Chinese  is  the  result  of  a  scheme 
laid  by  the  said  Baron  Jeanrenaud  and  the  widow  his  mother 
to  bring  about  the  deadening  of  all  the  Marquis  d'Espard's 
mental  faculties,  since  the  only  service  which  Mme.  Jean- 
renaud appears  to  render  M.  d'Espard  is  to  procure  him 
everything  that  relates  to  the  Chinese  Empire. 

"'Finally,  that  the  petitioner  is  prepared  to  show  the 
court  that  the  moneys  absorbed  by  the  said  Baron  and  Mme. 
Jeanrenaud  between  1814  and  1828  amount  to  not  less  than 
one  million  francs. 

"  '  In  confirmation  of  the  facts  herein  set  forth,  the  peti- 
tioner can  bring  the  evidence  of  persons  who  are  in  the  habit 
of  seeing  the  Marquis  d'Espard,  whose  names  and  professions 
are  subjoined,  many  of  whom  have  urged  her  to  demand  a 
commission  in  lunacy  to  declare  M.  d'Espard  incapable  of 
managing  his  own  affairs,  as  being  the  only  way  to  preserve 
his  fortune  from  the  effects  of  his  maladministration  and  his 
children  from  his  fatal  influence. 

"  '  Taking  all  this  into  consideration,  M.  le  President,  and 
the  affidavits  subjoined,  the  petitioner   desires  that   it   may 


rJIE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  315 

please  you,  inasmuch  as  the  foregoing  facts  sufficiently  prove 
the  insanity  and  incompetency  of  the  Marquis  d'Espard  herein 
described  with  his  titles  and  residence,  to  order  that,  to  the 
end  that  he  may  be  declared  incompetent  bylaw,  this  petition 
and  the  documents  in  evidence  may  be  laid  before  the  King's 
public  prosecutor ;  and  that  you  will  charge  one  of  the  judges 
of  this  court  to  make  his  report  to  you  on  any  day  you  may  be 
pleased  to  name,  and  thereupon  to  pronounce  judgment,'  etc. 

"And  here,"  said  Popinot,  "  is  the  President's  order  in- 
structing me  ! — Well,  what  does  the  Marquise  d'Espard  want 
with  me  ?  I  know  everything.  But  I  shall  go  to-morrow  with 
my  registrar  to  see  M.  le  Marquis,  for  this  does  not  seem  at 
all  clear  to  me." 

"Listen,  my  dear  uncle,  I  have  never  asked  the  least  little 
favor  of  you  that  had  to  do  with  your  legal  functions ;  well, 
I  now  beg  you  to  show  Madame  d'Espard  the  kindness  which 
her  situation  deserves.  If  she  came  here,  you  would  listen  to 
her?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  then,  go  and  listen  to  her  in  her  own  house. 
Madame  d'Espard  is  a  sickly,  nervous,  delicate  woman,  who 
would  faint  in  your  rat's  hole  of  a  place.  Go  in  the  evening, 
instead  of  accepting  her  dinner,  since  the  law  forbids  your 
eating  or  drinking  at  your  client's  expense." 

"And  does  not  the  law  forbid  you  from  taking  any  legacy 
from  your  dead?  "  said  Popinot,  fancying  that  he  saw  a  touch 
of  irony  on  his  nephew's  lips. 

"  Come,  uncle,  if  it  were  only  to  enable  you  to  get  at  the 
truth  of  this  business,  grant  my  request.  You  will  come  as 
the  examining  judge,  since  matters  do  not  seem  to  you  very 
clear.  Deuce  take  it  I  It  is  as  necessary  to  cross-question 
the  Marquise  as  it  is  to  "examine  the  Marquis." 

"You  are  right,"  said  the  lawyer.  "It  is  quite  possible 
that  it  is  she  who  is  mad.    I  will  go." 

"I  will  call  for  vou.     Write  down  in  your  engagement 


316  THE   COMMISSION  IN  lUNACY. 

book:  'To-morrow  evening  at  nine,  Madame  d'Espard.' 
Good  ! ' '  said  Bianchon,  seeing  his  uncle  make  a  note  of  the 
engagement. 

Next  evening  at  nine  Bianchon  mounted  his  uncle's  dusty 
staircase,  and  found  him  at  work  on  the  statement  of  some 
complicated  judgment.  The  coat  Lavienne  had  ordered  of 
the  tailor  had  not  been  sent,  so  Popinot  put  on  his  old  stained 
coat,  and  was  the  Popinot  unadorned  whose  appearance  made 
those  laugh  who  did  not  know  the  secrets  of  his  private  life. 
Bianchon,  however,  obtained  permission  to  pull  his  cravat 
straight,  and  to  button  his  coat,  and  he  hid  the  stains  by 
crossing  the  breast  of  it  with  the  right  side  over  the  left,  and 
so  displaying  the  new  front  of  the  cloth.  But  in  a  minute 
the  judge  rucked  the  coat  up  over  his  chest  by  the  way  in 
which  he  stuffed  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  obeying  an  irre- 
sistible habit.  Thus  the  coat,  deeply  wrinkled  both  in  front 
and  behind,  made  a  sort  of  hump  in  the  middle  of  the  back, 
leaving  a  gap  between  the  waistcoat  and  trousers  through 
which  his  shirt  showed.  Bianchon,  to  his  sorrow,  only  dis- 
covered this  crowning  absurdity  at  the  moment  when  his  uncle 
entered  the  Marquise's  room. 

A  brief  sketch  of  the  person  and  the  career  of  the  lady  in 
whose  presence  the  doctor  and  the  judge  now  found  them- 
selves is  necessary  for  an  understanding  of  her  interview  with 
Popinot. 

Madame  d'Espard  had,  for  the  last  seven  years,  been  very 
much  the  fashion  in  Paris,  where  fashion  can  raise  and  drop 
by  turn  various  personages  who,  now  great  and  now  small, 
that  is  to  say,  in  view  or  forgotten,  are  at  last  quite  intoler- 
able— as  discarded  ministers  are,  and  every  kind  of  decayed 
sovereignty.  These  flatterers  of  the  .past,  odious  with  their' 
stale  pretensions,  know  everything,  speak  ill  of  everything, 
and,  like  ruined  profligates,  are  friends  with  all  the  world. 
Since  her  husband  had  separated  from  her  in  1815,  Madame 


THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  317 

d'Espard  must  have  married  in  the  beginning  of  1812.  Her 
children,  therefore,  were  aged  respectively  fifteen  and  thir- 
teen. By  what  luck  was  the  mother  of  a  family,  about  three- 
and-thirty  years  of  age,  still  the  fashion  ? 

Though  fashion  is  capricious,  and  no  one  can  foresee  who 
shall  be  her  favorites,  though  she  often  exalts  a  banker's  wife, 
or  some  woman  of  very  doubtful  elegance  and  beauty,  it 
certainly  seems  supernatural  when  fashion  puts  on  constitu- 
tional airs  and  gives  promotion  for  age.  But  in  this  case 
fashion  had  done  as  the  world  did,  and  accepted  Madame 
d'Espard  as  still  young. 

The  Marquise,  who  was  thirty-three  by  her  register  of  birth, 
was  twenty-two  in  a  drawing-room  in  the  evening.  But  by 
what  care,  what  artifice  !  Elaborate  curls  shaded  her  temples. 
She  condemned  herself  to  live  in  twilight,  affecting  illness  so 
as  to  sit  under  the  protecting  tones  of  light  filtered  through 
muslin.  Like  Diane  de  Poitiers,  she  used  cold  water  in  her 
bath,  and,  like  her  again,  the  Marquise  slept  on  a  horsehair 
mattress,  with  morocco-covered  pillows  to  preserve  her  hair ; 
she  ate  very  little,  only  drank  water,  and  observed  monastic 
regularity  in  the  smallest  actions  of  her  life. 

This  severe  system  has,  it  is  said,  been  carried  so  far  as  to 
the  use  of  ice  instead  of  water,  and  nothing  but  cold  food,  by 
a  famous  Polish  lady  of  our  day  who  spends  a  life,  now  verging 
on  a  century  old,  after  the  fashion  of  a  town  belle.  Fated  to 
live  as  long  as  Marion  Delorme,  whom  history  has  credited 
with  surviving  to  be  a  hundred  and  thirty,  the  old  vice-queen 
of  Poland,  at  the  age  of  nearly  a  hundred,  has  the  heart  and 
brain  of  youth,  a  charming  face,  an  elegant  shape  ;  and  in  her 
conversation,  sparkling  with  brilliancy  like  faggots  in  the  fire, 
she  can  compare  the  men  and  books  of  our  literature  with  the 
men  and  books  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Living  in  Warsaw, 
she  orders  her  caps  of  Herbault  in  Paris.  She  is  a  great  lady 
with  the  amiability  of  a  mere  girl ;  she  swims,  she  runs  like  a 
schoolboy,  and  can  sink  on  to  a  sofa  with  the  grace  of  a  young 


818  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

coquette ;  she  mocks  at  death,  and  laughs  at  life.  After  having 
astonished  the  Emperor  Alexander,  she  can  still  amaze  the 
Emperor  Nicholas  by  the  splendor  of  her  entertainments.  She 
can  still  bring  tears  to  the  eyes  of  a  youthful  lover,  for  her 
age  is  whatever  she  pleases,  and  she  has  the  exquisite  self- 
devotion  of  a  grisette.  In  short,  she  is  herself  a  fairy  tale, 
unless,  indeed,  she  is  a  fairy. 

Had  Madame  d'Espard  known  Madame  Zayonseck  ?  Did  she 
mean  to  imitate  her  career  ?  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  Marquise 
proved  the  merits  of  the  treatment ;  her  complexion  was 
clear,  her  brow  unwrinkled,  her  figure,  like  that  of  Henri  II. 's 
lady-love,  preserved  the  litheness,  the  freshness,  the  covered 
charms  which  bring  a  woman  love  and  keep  it  alive.  The 
simple  precautions  of  this  course,  suggested  by  art  and  nature, 
and  perhaps  by  experience,  had  met  in  her  with  a  general  system 
which  confirmed  the  results.  The  Marquise  was  absolutely 
indifferent  to  everything  that  was  not  herself:  men  amused 
her,  but  no  man  had  ever  caused  her  those  deep  agitations 
which  stir  both  natures  to  their  depths,  and  wreck  one  or  the 
other.  She  knew  neither  hatred  nor  love.  When  she  was 
offended,  she  avenged  herself  coldly,  quietly,  at  her  leisure, 
waiting  for  the  opportunity  to  gratify  the  ill-will  she  cherished 
against  anybody  who  dwelt  in  her  unfavorable  remembrance. 
She  made  no  fuss,  she  did  not  excite  herself;  she  talked, 
because  she  knew  that  by  two  words  a  woman  may  cause  the 
death  of  three  men. 

She  had  parted  from  M.  d'Espard  with  the  greatest  satisfac- 
tion. Had  he  not  taken  with  him  two  children  who  at  present 
were  troublesome,  and  in  the  future  would  stand  in  the  way 
of  her  pretensions?  Her  most  intimate  friends,  as  much 
as  her  least  persistent  admirers,  seeing  about  her  none  of 
Cornelia's  jewels,  who  come  and  go,  and  unconsciously  betray 
their  mother's  age,  took  her  for  quite  a  young  woman.  The 
two  boys,  about  whom  she  seemed  so  anxious  in  her  petition, 
were  like  their  father,  as  unknown  in  the  world  as  the  north- 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  319 

west  passage  is  unknown  to  navigators.  M.  d'Espard  was 
supposed  to  be  an  eccentric  personage  who  had  deserted  his 
wife  without  having  the  smallest  cause  for  complaint  against 
her. 

Mistress  of  herself  at  two-and-twenty,  and  mistress  of  her 
fortune  of  twenty-six  thousand  francs  a  year,  the  Marquise 
hesitated  long  before  deciding  on  a  course  of  action  and  order- 
ing her  life.  Though  she  benefited  by  the  expenses  her 
husband  had  incurred  in  his  house,  though  she  had  all  the 
furniture,  the  carriages,  the  horses,  in  short,  all  the  details  of 
a  handsome  establishment,  she  lived  a  retired  life  during  the 
years  1816,  17,  and  18,  a  time  when  families  were  recovering 
from  the  disasters  resulting  from  political  tempests.  She  be- 
longed to  one  of  the  most  important  and  illustrious  families 
of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain,  and  her  parents  advised  her 
to  live  with  them  as  much  as  possible  after  the  separation 
forced  upon  her  by  her  husband's  singular  and  inexplicable 
caprice. 

In  1820  the  Marquise  roused  herself  from  her  lethargy  ; 
she  went  to  Court,  appeared  at  parties,  and  entertained  in  her 
own  house.  From  1821  to  1827  she  lived  in  great  style,  and 
made  herself  remarked  for  her  taste  and  her  dress ;  she  had  a 
day,  an  hour,  for  receiving  visits,  and  ere  long  she  had  seated 
herself  on  the  throne,  occupied  before  her  by  Madame  la 
Vicomtesse  de  Beauseant,  the  Duchesse  de  Langeais,  and 
Madame  Firmiani— who  on  her  marriage  with  M.  de  Camps 
had  resigned  the  sceptre  in  favor  of  the  Duchesse  de  Maufrig- 
neuse,  from  whom  Madame  d'Espard  snatched  it.  The  world 
knew  nothing  beyond  this  of  the  private  life  of  the  Marquise 
d'Espard.  She  seemed  likely  to  shine  for  long  on  the  Paris- 
ian  horizon,  like   the  sun   near   its   setting,  but  which  will 

never  set. 

The  Marquise  was  on  terms  of  great  intimacy  with  a  duchess 
as  famous  for  her  beauty  as  for  her  attachment  to  a  prince  just 
now  in  banishment,  but  accustomed  to  play  a  leading  part  in 


320  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

every  prospective  government.  Madame  d'Espard  was  also 
the  friend  of  a  foreign  lady,  with  whom  a  famous  and  very 
wily  Russian  diplomate  was  in  the  habit  of  discussing  public 
affairs.  And  then  an  antiquated  countess,  who  was  accus- 
tomed to  shuffle  the  cards  for  the  great  game  of  politics,  had 
adopted  her  in  a  maternal  fashion.  Thus,  to  any  man  of  high 
ambitions,  Madame  d'Espard  was  preparing  a  covert  but  very 
real  influence  to  follow  the  public  and  frivolous  ascendency 
she  now  owed  to  fashion.  Her  drawing-room  was  acquiring 
political  individuality:  "  Wiiat  do  they  say  at  Madame 
d'Espard's?"  "Are  they  against  the  measure  in  Madame 
d'Espard's  drawing-room?"  were  questions  repeated  by  a 
sufficient  number  of  simpletons  to  give  the  flock  of  the  faith- 
ful who  surrounded  her  the  importance  of  a  coterie.  A  few 
damaged  politicians  whose  wounds  she  had  bound  up,  and  wliom 
she  flattered,  pronounced  her  as  capable  in  diplomacy  as  the 
wife  of  the  Russian  ambassador  to  London.  The  Marquise 
had  indeed  several  times  suggested  to  deputies  or  to  peers 
words  and  ideas  that  had  rung  through  Europe.  She  had 
often  judged  correctly  of  certain  events  on  which  her  circle 
of  friends  dared  not  express  an  opinion.  The  principal 
persons  about  the  Court  came  in  the  evening  to  play  whist  in 
her  rooms. 

Then  she  also  had  the  qualities  of  her  defects ;  she  was 
thought  to  be — and  she  was — discreet.  Her  friendship  seemed 
to  be  staunch  ;  she  worked  for  her  proteges  with  a  persistency 
which  showed  that  she  cared  less  for  patronage  than  for  in- 
creased influence.  This  conduct  was  based  on  her  dominant 
passion :  Vanity.  Conquests  and  pleasure,  which  so  many 
women  love,  to  her  seemed  only  means  to  an  end ;  she  aimed 
at  living  on  every  point  of  the  largest  circle  that  life  can 
describe. 

Among  the  men  still  young,  and  to  whom  the  future  be- 
longed, who  crowded  her  drawing-room  on  great  occasions, 
were  to  be  seen  MM.  de  Marsay  and  de  RonqueroUes,  de 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  321 

Montriveau,  de  la  Roche-Hugon,  de  Serizy,  Ferraud,  Maxime 
de  Trailles,  de  Listomere,  the  two  Vandenesses,  du  Cliatelet, 
and  others.  She  would  frequently  receive  a  man  whose  wife 
she  would  not  admit,  and  her  power  was  great  enough  to 
induce  certain  ambitious  men  to  submit  to  these  hard  condi- 
tions, such  as  two  famous  royalist  bankers,  M.  de  Nucingen 
and  Ferdinand  du  Tillet.  She  had  so  thorougidy  studied  the 
strength  and  the  weakness  of  Paris  life,  tliat  her  conduct  had 
never  given  any  man  the  smallest  advantage  over  her.  An 
enormous  price  might  have  been  set  on  a  note  or  letter  by 
which  she  might  have  compromised  herself,  without  one  being 
produced. 

If  an  arid  soul  enabled  her  to  play  her  part  to  the  life,  her 
person  was  no  less  available  for  it.  She  had  a  youthful  figure. 
Her  voice  was,  at  will,  soft  and  fresh,  or  clear  and  hard.  She 
possessed  in  the  highest  degree  the  secret  of  that  aristocratic 
pose  by  which  a  woman  wipes  out  the  past.  The  Marquise 
knew  well  the  art  of  setting  an  immense  space  between  her- 
self and  the  sort  of  man  who  fancies  he  may  be  familiar  after 
some  chance  advances.  Her  imposing  gaze  could  deny  every- 
thing. In  her  conversation  fine  and  beautiful  sentiments  and 
noble  resolutions  flowed  naturally,  as  it  seemed,  from  a  pure 
heart  and  soul  ;  but  in  reality  she  was  all  self,  and  quite  capable 
of  blasting  a  man  who  was  clumsy  in  his  negotiations,  at  the 
very  time  when  she  was  shamelessly  making  a  compromise  for 
the  benefit  of  her  own  interest. 

Rastignac,  in  trying  to  fasten  on  to  this  woman,  had  dis- 
cerned her  to  be  the  cleverest  of  tools,  but  he  had  not  yet 
used  it ;  far  from  handling  it,  he  was  already  finding  himself 
crushed  by  it.  This  young  Condotiiere  of  the  brain,  con- 
demned, like  Napoleon,  to  give  battle  constantly,  while 
knowing  that  a  single  defeat  would  prove  the  grave  of  his 
fortunes,  had  met  a  dangerous  adversary  in  his  protectress. 
For  the  first  time  in  his  turbulent  life,  he  was  playing  a  game 
with  a  partner  worthy  of  him.  He  saw  a  place  as  Minister  in 
21 


322  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

the  conquest  of  Madame  d'Espard,  so  he  was  her  tool  till  he 
could  make  her  his — a  perilous  beginning. 

The  Hotel  d'Espard  needed  a  large  household,  and  the 
Marquise  had  a  great  number  of  servants.  The  grand  recep- 
tions were  held  in  the  ground-floor  rooms,  but  she  lived  on 
the  first  floor  of  the  house.  The  perfect  order  of  a  fine  stair- 
case splendidly  decorated,  and  rooms  fitted  in  the  dignified 
style  which  formerly  prevailed  at  Versailles,  spoke  of  an  im- 
mense fortune.  When  the  judge  saw  the  carriage  gates  thrown 
open  to  admit  his  nephew's  cab,  he  took  in  with  a  rapid  glance 
the  lodge,  the  porter,  the  courtyard,  the  stables,  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  house,  the  flowers  that  decorated  the  stairs,  the 
perfect  cleanliness  of  the  banisters,  walls,  and  carpets,  and 
counted  the  footmen  in  livery  who,  as  the  bell  rang,  appeared 
on  the  landing.  His  eyes,  which  only  yesterday  in  his  parlor 
had  sounded  the  dignity  of  misery  under  the  muddy  clothing 
of  the  poor,  now  studied  with  the  same  penetrating  vision  the 
furniture  and  splendor  of  the  rooms  he  passed  through,  to 
pierce  to  the  misery  of  grandeur. 

''M.  Popinot.     M.  Bianchon." 

The  two  names  were  pronounced  at  the  door  of  the  boudoir 
where  the  Marquise  was  sitting,  a  pretty  room  recently  refur- 
nished, and  looking  out  on  the  garden  behind  the  house. 
At  the  moment  Madame  d'Espard  was  seated  in  one  of  the 
old-time  armchairs  of  which  Madame  had  set  the  fashion. 
Rastignac  was  at  her  left  hand  on  a  low  chair,  in  which  he 
looked  settled  like  an  Italian  lady's  "cousin."  A  third 
person  was  standing  by  the  corner  of  the  chimney-piece.  As 
the  shrewd  doctor  had  suspected,  the  Marquise  was  a  woman 
of  a  parched  and  wiry  constitution.  But  for  her  regimen  her 
complexion  must  have  taken  the  ruddy  tone  that  is  produced 
by  constant  heat ;  but  she  added  to  the  effect  of  her  acquired 
pallor  by  the  strong  colors  of  the  stuffs  she  hung  her  rooms 
with,  or  in  which  she  dressed.  Reddish-brown,  marone, 
bistre  with  a  golden  light  in  it,  suited  her  to  perfection.     Her 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  323 

boudoir,  copied  from  that  of  a  famous  lady  then  at  the  height 
of  fashion  in  London,  was  in  tan-colored  velvet ;  but  she  had 
added  various  details  of  ornament  which  moderated  the 
pompous  splendor  of  this  royal  hue.  Her  hair  was  dressed 
like  a  girl's  in  bands  ending  in  curls,  which  emphasized  the 
rather  long  oval  of  her  face  ;  but  an  oval  face  is  as  majestic 
as  a  round  one  is  ignoble.  The  mirrors,  cut  with  facets  to 
lengthen  or  flatten  the  face  at  will,  amply  prove  the  rule  as 
applied  to  the  physiognomy. 

On  seeing  Popinot,  who  stood  in  the  doorway  craning  his 
neck  like  a  startled  animal,  with  his  left  hand  in  his  pocket, 
and  the  right  hand  holding  a  hat  with  a  greasy  lining,  the 
Marquise  gave  Rastignac  a  look  wherein  lay  a  germ  of  mock- 
ery. The  good  man's  rather  foolish  appearance  was  so  com- 
pletely in  harmony  with  his  grotesque  figure  and  scared  looks, 
that  Rastignac,  catching  sight  of  Bianchon's  dejected  expres- 
sion of  humiliation  through  his  uncle,  could  not  help  laugh- 
ing, and  turned  away.  The  Marquise  bowed  a  greeting,  and 
made  a  great  effort  to  rise  from  her  seat,  falling  back  again, 
not  without  grace,  with  an  air  of  apologizing  for  her  incivility 
by  affected  weakness. 

At  this  instant  the  person  who  was  standing  between  the 
fireplace  and  the  door  bowed  slightly,  and  pushed  forward  two 
chairs,  which  he  offered  by  a  gesture  to  the  doctor  and  the 
judge ;  then,  when  they  had  seated  themselves,  he  leaned 
against  the  wall  again,  crossing  his  arms. 

A  word  as  to  this  man.  There  is  living  now,  in  our  day,  a 
painter — Decamps — who  possesses  in  the  very  highest  degree 
the  art  of  commanding  your  interest  in  everything  he  sets 
before  your  eyes,  whether  it  be  a  stone  or  a  man.  In  this 
respect  his  pencil  is  more  skilful  than  his  brush.  He  will 
sketch  an  empty  room  and  leave  a  broom  against  the  wall. 
If  he  chooses,  you  shall  shudder ;  you  shall  believe  that  this 
broom  has  just  been  the  instrument  of  crime,  and  is  dripping 
with  blood ;  it  shall  be  the  broom  which  the  widow  Bancal 


324  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

used  to  clean  out  the  room  where  Fualdes  was  murdered- 
Yes,  the  painter  will  touzle  that  broom  like  a  man  in  a  rage; 
he  will  make  each  hair  of  it  stand  on  end  as  though  it  were 
on  your  own  bristling  scalp ;  he  will  make  it  the  interpreter 
between  the  secret  poem  of  his  imagination  and  the  poem 
that  shall  have  its  birth  in  yours.  After  terrifying  you  by  the 
aspect  of  that  broom,  to-morrow  he  will  draw  another,  and 
lying  by  it  a  cat,  asleep,  but  mysterious  in  its  sleep,  shall  tell 
you  that  this  broom  is  that  on  which  the  wife  of  a  German 
cobbler  rides  off  to  the  Sabbath  on  the  Brocken.  Or  it  will 
be  a  quite  harmless  broom,  on  which  he  will  hang  the  coat  of 
a  clerk  in  the  Treasury.  Decamps  had  in  his  brush  what 
Paganini  had  in  his  bow — a  magnetically  communicative 
power. 

Well,  I  should  have  to  transfer  to  my  style  that  striking 
genius,  that  marvelous  knack  of  the  pencil,  to  depict  the  up- 
right, tall,  lean  man  dressed  in  black,  with  black  hair,  who 
stood  there  without  speaking  a  word.  This  gentleman  had  a 
face  like  a  knife-blade,  cold  and  harsh,  with  a  color  like  Seine 
water  when  it  is  muddy  and  strewn  with  fragments  of  char- 
coal from  a  sunken  barge.  He  looked  at  the  floor,  listening 
and  passing  judgment.  His  attitude  was  terrifying.  He  stood 
there  like  the  dreadful  broom  to  which  Decamps  has  given  the 
power  of  revealing  a  crime.  Now  and  then,  in  the  course  of 
conversation,  the  Marquise  tried  to  get  some  tacit  advice ;  but 
however  eager  her  questioning,  he  was  as  grave  and  as  rigid 
as  the  statue  of  the  Commendatore. 

The  worthy  Popinot,  sitting  on  the  edge  of  his  chair  in 
front  of  the  fire,  his  hat  between  his  knees,  stared  at  the  gilt 
chandeliers,  the  clock,  and  the  curiosities  with  which  the 
chimney-shelf  was  covered,  the  velvet  and  trimmings  of  the 
curtains,  and  all  the  costly  and  elegant  nothings  that  a  woman 
of  fashion  collects  about  her.  He  was  roused  from  his  homely 
meditations  by  Madame  d'Espard,  who  addressed  him  in  a 
piping  tone — 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  325 

"Monsieur,  I  owe  you  a  million  thanks " 


"A  million  thanks,"  thought  he  to  himself,  "that  is  too 
many;  it  does  not  mean  one." 

"  For  the  trouble  you  condescend " 

**  Condescend!  "  thought  he ;   "  she  is  laughing  at  me." 

"  To  take  in  coming  to  see  an  unhappy  client,  who  is  too 
ill  to  go  out " 

Here  the  lawyer  cut  the  Marquise  short  by  giving  her  an 
inquisitorial  look,  examining  the  sanitary  condition  of  the 
unhappy  client. 

"  As  sound  as  a  bell,"  said  he  to  himself. 

"Madame,"  said  he,  assuming  a  respectful  mien,  "you 
owe  me  nothing.  Although  my  visit  to  you  is  not  in  strict 
accordance  with  the  practice  of  the  court,  we  ought  to  spare 
no  pains  to  discover  the  truth  in  cases  of  this  kind.  Our 
judgment  is  then  guided  less  by  the  letter  of  the  law  than  by 
the  promptings  of  our  conscience.  Whether  I  seek  the  truth 
here  or  in  my  own  consulting-room,  so  long  as  I  find  it,  all 
will  be  well." 

While  Popinot  was  speaking,  Rastignac  was  shaking  hands 
with  Bianchon  ;  the  Marquise  welcomed  the  doctor  with  a 
little  bow  full  of  gracious  significance. 

"  Who  is  that?"  asked  Bianchon  in  a  whisper  of  Rastignac, 
indicating  the  dark  man. 

"The  Chevalier  d'Espard,  the  Marquis'  brother." 

"Your  nephew  told  me,"  said  the  Marquise  to  Popinot, 
"  how  much  you  are  occupied,  and  I  know  too  that  you  are  so 
good  as  to  wish  to  conceal  your  kind  actions,  so  as  to  release 
those  whom  you  oblige  from  the  burden  of  gratitude.  The 
work  in  court  is  most  fatiguing,  it  would  seem.  Why  have 
they  not  twice  as  many  judges?  " 

"Ah,  madame,  that  would  not  be  difficult;  we  should  be 
none  the  worse  if  they  had.  But  when  that  happens,  fowls 
will  cut  their  teeth  !  " 

As  he  heard  this  speech,  so  entirely  in  character  with  the 


326  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

lawyer's  appearance,  the  Chevalier  measured  him  from  head  to 
foot,  out  of  one  eye,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  We  shall  easily 
manage  him  !  " 

The  Marquise  looked  at  Rastignac,  who  bent  over  her. 
"  That  is  the  sort  of  man,"  murmured  the  dandy  in  her  ear, 
**  who  is  trusted  to  pass  judgments  on  the  life  and  interests  of 
private  individuals." 

Like  most  men  who  have  grown  old  in  a  business,  Popinot 
readily  let  himself  follow  the  habits  he  had  acquired,  more 
particularly  habits  of  mind.  His  conversation  was  all  of  "  the 
shop."  He  was  fond  of  questioning  those  he  talked  to, 
forcing  them  to  unexpected  conclusions,  making  them  tell 
more  than  they  wished  to  reveal.  Pozzo  di  Borgo,  it  is  said, 
used  to  amuse  himself  by  discovering  other  folks'  secrets,  and 
entangling  them  in  his  diplomatic  snares,  and  thus,  by 
invincible  habit,  showed  how  his  mind  was  soaked  in  wiliness. 
As  soon  as  Popinot  had  surveyed  the  ground,  so  to  speak,  on 
which  he  stood,  he  saw  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  have 
recourse  to  the  cleverest  subtleties,  the  most  elaborately 
wrapped  up  and  disguised,  which  were  in  use  in  the  courts,  to 
detect  the  truth. 

Bianchon  sat  cold  and  stern,  as  a  man  who  has  made  up  his 
mind  to  endure  torture  without  revealing  his  sufferings ;  but 
in  his  heart  he  wished  that  his  uncle  could  only  trample  on 
this  woman  as  we  trample  on  a  viper — a  comparison  suggested 
to  him  by  the  Marquise's  long  dress,  by  the  curve  of  her 
attitude,  her  long  neck,  small  head,  and  undulating  move- 
ments. He  felt  that  beneath  the  surface  of  her  nature  there 
lay  a  crafty  spirit,  designing  to  conceal  the  truth. 

"Well,  monsieur,"  said  Madame  d'Espard,  "however 
great  my  dislike  to  be  or  seem  selfish,  I  have  been  suffering 
too  long  not  to  wish  that  you  may  settle  matters  at  once. 
Shall  I  soon  get  a  favorable  decision?" 

"  Madame,  I  will  do  my  best  to  bring  matters  to  a  con- 
clusion," said  Popinot,   with  an  air  of   frank  good-nature. 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  327 

**  Are  you  ignorant  of  the  reason  which  made  the  separation 
necessary  which  now  subsists  between  you  and  the  Marquis 
d'Espard?" 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  she  replied,  evidently  prepared  with  a 
story  to  tell.  "At  the  beginning  of  1816  M,  d'Espard,  whose 
temper  had  completely  changed  within  three  months  or  so, 
proposed  that  we  should  go  to  live  on  one  of  his  estates  near 
Briangon,  without  any  regard  for  my  health,  which  that  cli- 
mate would  have  destroyed,  or  for  my  habits  of  life  ;  I  refused 
to  go.  My  refusal  gave  rise  to  such  unjustifiable  reproaches 
on  his  part,  that  from  that  hour  I  had  my  suspicions  as  to  the 
soundness  of  his  mind.  On  the  following  day  he  left  me, 
leaving  me  his  house  and  the  free  use  of  my  own  income,  and 
he  went  to  live  in  the  Rue  de  la  Montagne-Saint-Genevieve, 
taking  with  him  my  two  children " 

**  One  moment,  madame,"  said  the  lawyer  interrupting  her. 
**What  was  that  income?" 

"Twenty-six  thousand  francs  a  year,"  she  replied  paren- 
thetically. "  I  at  once  consulted  old  M.  Bordin  as  to  what  I 
ought  to  do,"  she  went  on  ;  "  but  it  seems  that  there  are  so 
many  difficulties  in  the  way  of  depriving  a  father  of  the  care 
of  his  children,  that  I  was  forced  to  resign  myself  to  remain- 
ing alone  at  the  age  of  twenty-two — an  age  at  which  many 
young  women  do  very  foolish  things.  You  have  read  my 
petition,  no  doubt,  monsieur;  you  know  the  principal  facts 
on  which  I  rely  to  procure  a  commission  in  lunacy  with  regard 
toM.  d'Espard?" 

"  Have  you  ever  applied  to  him,  madame,  to  obtain  the  care 
of  your  children  ?  ' ' 

**  Yes,  monsieur ;  but  in  vain.  It  is  very  hard  on  a  mother 
to  be  deprived  of  the  affection  of  her  children,  particularly 
when  they  can  give  her  such  happiness  as  every  woman 
clings  to." 

"The  elder  must  be  sixteen,"  said  Popinot. 

**  Fifteen,"  said  the  Marquise  eagerly. 


328  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

Here  Bianchon  and  Rastignac  looked  at  each  other. 
Madame  d'Espard  bit  her  lips. 

"  What  can  the  age  of  my  children  matter  to  you?  " 

"Well,  madame,"  said  the  lawyer,  without  seeming  to 
attach  any  importance  to  his  words,  *'  a  lad  of  fifteen  and  his 
brother,  of  thirteen,  I  suppose,  have  legs  and  their  wits  about 
them  ;  they  might  come  to  see  you  on  the  sly.  If  they  do  not, 
it  is  because  they  obey  their  father,  and  to  obey  him  in  that 
matter  they  must  love  him  very  dearly." 

"  I  do  not  understand,"  said  the  Marquise 

"You  do  not  know,  perhaps,"  replied  Popinot,  "that  in 
your  petition  your  attorney  represents  your  children  as  being 
very  unhappy  with  their  father?" 

Madame  d'Espard  replied  with  charming  innocence — 

"  I  do  not  know  what  my  attorney  may  have  put  into  my 
mouth." 

"  Forgive  my  inferences,"  said  Popinot,  "  but  justice  weighs 
everything.  What  I  ask  you,  madame,  is  suggested  by  my 
wish  thoroughly  to  understand  the  matter.  By  your  account 
M.  d'Espard  deserted  you  on  the  most  frivolous  pretext.  In- 
stead of  going  to  BriauQon,  where  he  wished  to  take  you,  he 
remained  in  Paris.  This  point  is  not  clear.  Did  he  know 
this  Madame  Jeanrenaud  before  his  marriage?  " 

"No,  monsieur,"  replied  the  Marquise,  with  some  asperity, 
visible  only  to  Rastignac  and  the  Chevalier  d'Espard. 

She  was  offended  at  being  cross-questioned  by  this  lawyer 
when  she  had  intended  to  beguile  his  judgment ;  but  as  Pop- 
inot still  looked  stupid  from  sheer  absence  of  mind,  she 
ended  by  attributing  his  interrogatory  to  the  questioning  spirit 
of  Voltaire's  bailiff. 

"  My  parents,"  she  went  on,  "married  me  at  the  age  of 
sixteen  to  M.  d'Espard,  whose  name,  fortune,  and  mode  of 
life  were  such  as  my  family  looked  for  in  the  man  who  was 
to  be  my  husband.  M.  d'Espard  was  then  six-and-twenty ; 
he  was  a  gentleman  in  the  English  sense  of  the  word  j  his 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  329 

manners  pleased  me,  he  seemed  to  have  plenty  of  ambition, 
and  I  like  ambitious  people,"  she  added,  looking  at  Rastignac. 
"If  M.  d'Espard  had  never  met  that  Madame  Jeanrenaud, 
his  character,  his  learning,  his  acquirements  would  have  raised 
him — as  his  friends  then  believed — to  high  office  in  the  gov- 
ernment. King  Charles  X.,at  that  time,  monsieur,  had  the 
greatest  esteem  for  him,  and  a  peer's  seat,  an  appointment  at 
Court,  some  important  post  certainly  would  have  been  his. 
That  woman  turned  his  head,  and  has  ruined  all  the  prospects 
of  my  family." 

"What  were  M.  d'Espard's  religious  opinions  at  that 
time?" 

**  He  was,  and  is  still,  a  very  pious  man." 

"You  do  not  suppose  that  Madame  Jeanrenaud  may  have 
influenced  him  by  mysticism  ?  " 

'*  No,  monsieur." 

"You  have  a  very  fine  house,  madame,"  said  Popinot  sud- 
denly, taking  his  hands  out  of  his  pockets,  and  rising  to  pick 
up  his  coat-tails  and  warm  himself.  "This  boudoir  is  very 
nice,  those  chairs  are  magnificent,  the  whole  apartment  is 
sumptuous.  You  must  indeed  be  most  unhappy  when,  seeing 
yourself  here,  you  know  that  your  children  are  ill  lodged,  ill 
clothed,  and  ill  fed.  I  can  imagine  nothing  more  terrible  for 
a  mother." 

"Yes,  indeed.  I  should  be  so  glad  to  give  the  poor  little 
fellows  some  amusement,  while  their  father  keeps  them  at 
work  from  morning  till  night  at  that  wretched  history  of 
China." 

"You  give  handsome  balls;  they  would  enjoy  them,  but 
they  might  acquire  a  taste  for  dissipation.  However,  their 
father  might  send  them  to  you  once  or  twice  in  the  course  of 
the  winter." 

"  He  brings  them  here  on  my  birthday  and  on  New  Year's 
Day.  On  those  days  M.  d'Espard  does  me  the  favor  of 
dining  here  with  them." 


330  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

"  It  is  very  singular  behavior,"  said  the  judge,  with  an  air  of 
conviction.     "  Have  you  ever  seen  this  Dame  Jeanrenaud  ?  " 

"  Yes.  My  brother-in-law  one  day,  out  of  interest  in  his 
brother " 

**Ah!  monsieur  is  M.  d'Espard's  brother?"  said  the 
lawyer,  interrupting  her. 

The  Chevalier  bowed,  but  did  not  speak. 

**  M.  d'Espard,  who  has  watched  this  affair,  took  me  to  the 
Oratoire,  where  this  woman  goes  to  sermon,  for  she  is  a 
Protestant.  I  saw  her;  she  is  not  in  the  least  attractive;  she 
looks  like  a  butcher's  wife,  extremely  fat,  horribly  marked 
with  the  smallpox ;  she  has  feet  and  hands  like  a  man's,  she 
squints;  in  short,  she  is  monstrous  !  " 

"  It  is  inconceivable,"  said  the  judge,  looking  like  the  most 
imbecile  judge  in  the  whole  kingdom.  "And  this  creature 
lives  here,  Rue  Verte,  in  a  fine  house  ?  There  are  no  plain 
folks  left,  it  would  seem  ?  " 

"  In  a  mansion  on  which  her  son  has  spent  absurd  sums." 

"Madame,"  said  Popinot,  "I  live  in  the  Faubourg  Saint- 
Marceau ;  I  know  nothing  of  such  expenses.  What  do  you 
call  absurd  sums  ? ' ' 

"  Well,"  said  the  Marquise,  "a  stable  with  five  horses  and 
three  carriages,  a  phaeton,  a  brougham,  and  a  cabriolet." 

"  That  costs  a  large  sum,  then  ?  "  asked  Popinot  in  surprise. 

"  Enormous  sums  !  "  said  Rastignac,  intervening.  "  Such 
an  establishment  would  cost,  for  the  stables,  the  keeping  the 
carriages  in  order,  and  the  liveries  for  the  men,  between 
fifteen  and  sixteen  thousand  francs  a  year." 

"  Should  you  think  so,  madame?  "  said  the  judge,  looking 
much  astonished. 

"Yes,  at  least,"  replied  the  Marquise. 

"  And  the  furniture,  too,  must  have  cost  a  lot  of  money?" 

"  More  than  a  hundred  thousand  francs,"  replied  Madame 
d'Espard,  who  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  lawyer's  vulgarity. 

"Judges,  madame,  are  apt  to  be  incredulous;  it  is  what 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  331 

they  are  paid  for,  and  I  am  incredulous.  The  Baron  Jean- 
renaud  and  his  mother  must  have  fleeced  M.  d'Espard  most 
preposterously,  if  what  you  say  is  correct.  There  is  a  stable 
establishment  which,  by  your  account,  costs  sixteen  thousand 
francs  a  year.  Housekeeping,  servants'  wages,  and  the  gross 
expenses  of  the  house  itself  must  run  to  twice  as  much  ;  that 
makes  a  total  of  from  fifty  to  sixty  thousand  francs  a  year. 
Do  you  suppose  that  these  people,  formerly  so  extremely  poor, 
can  have  so  large  a  fortune  ?  A  million  yields  scarcely  forty 
thousand  a  year." 

"Monsieur,  the  mother  and  son  invested  the  money  given 
them  by  M.  d'Espard  in  the  funds  when  they  were  at  60  to  80. 
I  should  think  their  income  must  be  more  than  sixty  thousand 
francs.     And  then  the  son  has  fine  appointments." 

"If  they  spend  sixty  thousand  francs  a  year,"  said  the 
judge,  "  how  much  do  you  spend  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  Madame  d'Espard,  "  about  the  same."  The 
Chevalier  started  a  little,  the  Marquise  colored ;  Bianchon 
looked  at  Rastignac ;  but  Popinot  preserved  an  expression  of 
simplicity  which  quite  deceived  Madame  d'Espard.  The 
Chevalier  took  no  part  in  the  conversation  j  he  saw  that  all 
was  lost. 

"  These  people,  madame,  might  be  indicted  before  the 
Superior  Court,"  said  Popinot. 

"That  was  my  opinion,"  exclaimed  the  Marquise,  en- 
chanted. "If  threatened  with  the  police,  they  would  have 
come  to  terms." 

"Madame,"  said  Popinot,  "when  M.  d'Espard  left  you, 
did  he  not  give  you  a  power  of  attorney  enabling  you  to 
manage  and  control  your  own  affairs?  " 

"I  do  not  understand  the  object  of  all  these  questions," 
said  the  Marquise  with  petulance.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  if 
you  would  only  consider  the  state  in  which  I  am  placed  by 
my  husband's  insanity,  you  ought  to  be  troubling  yourself 
about  him,  and  not  about  me." 


532  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

"We  are  coming  to  that,  madame,"  said  the  judge. 
"  Before  placing  in  your  hands,  or  in  any  others,  the  control 
of  M.  d'Espard's  property,  supposing  he  were  pronounced 
incapable,  the  court  must  inquire  as  to  how  you  have  managed 
your  own.  If  M.  d'Espard  gave  you  power,  he  would  have 
shown  confidence  in  you,  and  the  court  would  recognize  the 
fact.  Had  you  any  power  from  him?  You  might  have 
bought  or  sold  house  property  or  invested  money  in  busi- 
ness ? ' ' 

**  No,  monsieur,  the  Blamont-Chauvrys  are  not  in  the 
habit  of  trading,"  said  she,  extremely  nettled  in  her  pride  as 
an  aristocrat,  and  forgetting  the  business  in  hand.  "  My 
property  is  intact,  and  M.  d'Espard  gave  me  no  power  to  act." 

The  Chevalier  put  his  hand  over  his  eyes  not  to  betray  the 
vexation  he  felt  at  his  sister-in-law's  shortsightedness,  for  she 
was  ruining  herself  by  her  answers.  Popinot  had  gone 
straight  to  the  mark  in  spite  of  his  apparent  doublings.  Those 
present,  closely  watching  the  examination,  saw  her  evident 
discomfiture. 

"Madame,"  said  the  lawyer,  indicating  the  Chevalier, 
**  this  gentleman,  of  course,  is  your  near  connection  ?  May 
we  speak  openly  before  these  other  gentlemen  ?  " 

"  Speak  on,"  said  the  Marquise,  surprised  at  this  caution. 

**  Well,  madame,  granting  that  you  spend  only  sixty  thou- 
sand francs  a  year,  to  any  one  who  sees  your  stables,  your 
house,  your  train  of  servants,  and  a  style  of  housekeeping 
which  strikes  me  as  far  more  luxurious  than  that  of  the 
Jeanrenauds,  that  sum  would  seem  well  laid  out." 

The  Marquise  bowed  an  agreement. 

'*  But,"  continued  the  judge,  "  if  you  have  no  more  than 
twenty-six  thousand  francs  a  year,  you  may  have  a  hundred 
thousand  francs  of  debts.  The  court  would  therefore  have  a 
right  to  imagine  that  the  motives  which  prompt  you  to  ask 
that  your  husband  may  be  deprived  of  the  control  of  his  prop- 
erty are  complicated  by  self-interest  and  the  need  for  paying 


THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  333 

your  debts — if — you — have — any.  The  requests  addressed  to 
me  have  interested  me  in  your  position  ;  consider  fully  and 
make  your  confession.  If  my  suppositions  have  hit  the  truth, 
there  is  yet  time  to  avoid  the  blame  which  the  court  would 
have  a  perfect  right  to  express  in  the  saving  clauses  of  the 
verdict  if  you  could  not  show  your  attitude  to  be  absolutely 
honorable  and  clear. 

**  It  is  our  duty  to  examine  the  motives  of  the  applicant 
as  well  as  to  listen  to  the  plea  of  the  witness  under  examina- 
tion, to  ascertain  whether  the  petitioner  may  not  have  been 
prompted  by  passion,  by  a  desire  for  money,  which  is  unfor- 
tunately too  common " 

The  Marquise  was  on  Saint  Laurence's  gridiron. 

"And  I  must  have  explanations  on  this  point.  Madame,  I 
have  no  wish  to  call  you  to  account ;  I  only  want  to  know  how 
you  have  managed  to  live  at  the  rate  of  sixty  thousand  francs 
a  year,  and  that  for  some  years  past.  There  are  plenty  of 
women  who  achieve  this  in  their  housekeeping,  but  you  are 
not  one  of  those.  Tell  me,  you  may  have  the  most  legitimate 
resources,  a  royal  pension,  or  some  claim  on  the  indemnities 
lately  granted ;  but  even  then  you  must  have  had  your  hus- 
band's authority  to  receive  them." 

The  Marquise  did  not  speak. 

"You  must  remember,"  Popinot  went  on,  "that  M.  d'Es- 
pard  may  wish  to  enter  a  protest,  and  his  counsel  will  have  a 
right  to  find  out  whether  you  have  any  creditors.  This 
boudoir  is  newly  furnished,  your  rooms  are  not  now  furnished 
with  the  things  left  to  you  by  M.  d'Espard  in  1816.  If,  as 
you  did  me  the  honor  of  informing  me,  furniture  is  costly  for 
the  Jeanrenauds,  it  must  be  yet  more  so  for  you,  who  are  a 
great  lady.  Though  I  am  a  judge,  I  am  but  a  man  ;  I  may  be 
wrong — tell  me  so.  Remember  the  duties  imposed  on  me  by 
the  law,  and  the  rigorous  inquiries  it  demands,  when  the  case 
before  it  is  the  suspension  from  all  his  functions  of  the  father 
of  a  family  in  the  prime  of  life.     So  you  will   pardon  me, 


884  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

Madame  la  Marquise,  for  laying  all  these  difficulties  before 
you  ;  it  will  be  easy  for  you  to  give  me  an  explanation. 

**  When  a  man  is  pronounced  incapable  of  the  control  of 
his  own  affairs,  a  trustee  has  to  be  appointed.  Who  will  be 
the  trustee?" 

'*  His  brother,"  said  the  Marquise. 

The  Chevalier  bowed.  There  was  a  short  silence,  very  un- 
comfortable for  the  five  persons  who  were  present.  The  judge, 
in  sport  as  it  were,  had  laid  open  the  woman's  sore  place. 
Popinot's  countenance  of  common,  clumsy  good-nature,  at 
which  the  Marquise,  the  Chevalier,  and  Rastignac  had  been 
inclined  to  laugh,  had  gained  importance  in  their  eyes.  As 
they  stole  a  look  at  him,  they  discerned  the  various  expressions 
of  that  eloquent  mouth.  The  ridiculous  mortal  was  a  judge 
of  acumen.  His  studious  notice  of  the  boudoir  was  accounted 
for ;  he  had  started  from  the  gilt  elephant  supporting  the 
chimney-clock,  examining  all  this  luxury,  and  had  ended  by 
reading  this  woman's  soul. 

"  If  the  Marquis  d'Espard  is  mad  about  China,  I  see  that 
you  are  not  less  fond  of  its  products,"  said  Popinot,  looking 
at  the  porcelain  on  the  chimney-piece.  "  But  perhaps  it  was 
from  M.  le  Marquis  that  you  had  these  charming  Oriental 
pieces,"  and  he  pointed  to  some  precious  trifles. 

This  irony,  in  very  good  taste,  made  Bianchon  smile  and 
petrified  Rastignac,  while  the  Marquise  bit  her  thin  lips. 

"  Instead  of  being  the  protector  of  a  woman  placed  in  a 
cruel  dilemma — an  alternative  between  losing  her  fortune  and 
her  children,  and  being  regarded  as  her  husband's  enemy," 
she  said,  "  you  accuse  me,  monsieur !  You  suspect  my  mo- 
tives !     You  must  own  that  your  conduct  is  strange  !  ' ' 

**  Madame,"  said  the  judge  eagerly,  "  the  caution  exercised 
by  the  court  in  such  cases  as  these  might  have  given  you,  in 
any  other  judge,  a  perhaps  less  indulgent  critic  than  I  am. 
And  do  you  suppose  that  M.  d'Espard's  lawyer  will  show  you 
any  great  consideration  ?    Will  he  not  be  suspicious  of  mo- 


THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  335 

tives  which  may  be  perfectly  pure  and  disinterested  ?  Your 
life  will  be  at  his  mercy ;  he  will  inquire  into  it  without  qual- 
ifying his  search  by  the  respectful  deference  I  have  for  you." 

'^I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  monsieur,"  said  the  Marquise 
satirically.  "Admitting  for  the  moment  that  I  owe  thirty 
thousand,  or  fifty  thousand  francs,  in  the  first  place,  it  would 
be  a  mere  trifle  to  the  d'Espards  and  the  de  Blamont-Chau- 
vrys.  But  if  my  husband  is  not  in  the  possession  of  his 
mental  faculties,  would  that  prevent  his  being  pronounced 
incapable  ? ' ' 

"  No,  madame,"  said  Popinot. 

**  Although  you  have  questioned  me  with  a  sort  of  cunning 
which  I  should  not  have  expected  in  a  judge,  and  under  cir- 
cumstances where  straightforwardness  would  have  answered 
your  purpose,"  she  went  on,  "  I  will  tell  you  without  subter- 
fuge that  my  position  in  the  world,  and  the  efforts  I  have  to 
make  to  keep  up  my  connection,  are  not  in  the  least  to  my 
taste.  I  began  my  life  by  a  long  period  of  solitude  ;  but  my 
children's  interest  appealed  to  me ;  I  felt  that  I  must  fill  their 
father's  place.  By  receiving  my  friends,  by  keeping  up  all 
this  connection,  by  contracting  these  debts,  I  have  secured 
their  future  welfare  ;  I  have  prepared  for  them  a  brilliant  ca- 
reer where  they  will  find  help  and  favor ;  and  to  have  what 
has  thus  been  acquired,  many  a  man  of  business,  lawyer  or 
banker,  would  gladly  pay  all  it  has  cost  me." 

"I  appreciate  your  devoted  conduct,  madame,"  replied 
Popinot.  "  It  does  you  honor,  and  I  blame  you  for  nothing. 
A  judge  belongs  to  all :   he  must  know  and  weigh  every  fact." 

Madame  d'Espard's  tact  and  practice  in  estimating  men 
made  her  understand  that  M.  Popinot  was  not  to  be  influenced 
by  any  consideration.  She  had  counted  on  an  ambitious 
lawyer,  she  had  found  a  man  of  conscience.  She  at  once 
thought  of  finding  other  means  for  securing  the  success  of 
her  side. 

The  servants  brought  in  tea. 


336  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

"  Have  you  any  further  explanations  to  give  me,  madame?" 
said  Popinot,  seeing  these  preparations. 

"Monsieur,"  she  replied  haughtily,  "do  your  business 
your  own  way;  question  M.  d'Espard,  and  you  will  pity  me, 
lam  sure."  She  raised  her  head,  looking  Popinot  in  the 
face  with  pride,  mingled  with  impertinence ;  the  worthy  man 
bowed  himself  out  respectfully. 

"  A  nice  man  is  your  uncle,"  said  Rastignac  to  Bianchon. 
"Is  he  really  so  dense?  Does  he  not  know  what  the  Mar- 
quise d'Espard  is,  what  her  influence  means,  her  unavowed 
power  over  people  ?  The  Keeper  of  the  Seals  will  be  with 
her  to-morrow " 

"  My  dear  fellow,  how  can  I  help  it?"  said  Bianchon. 
"  Did  I  not  warn  you?     He  is  not  a  man  you  can  get  over." 

"  No,"  said  Rastignac ;   "  he  is  a  man  you  must  run  over." 

The  doctor  was  obliged  to  make  his  bow  to  the  Marquise 
and  her  mute  Chevalier  to  catch  up  with  Popinot,  who,  not 
being  the  man  to  endure  an  embarrassing  position,  was  pacing 
through  the  rooms. 

"  That  woman  owes  a  hundred  thousand  crowns,"  said  the 
judge,  as  he  stepped  into  his  nephew's  cab. 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  the  case?"  asked  Bianchon 
as  he  followed  his  uncle  into  the  cab. 

"  I,"  said  the  judge.  "  I  never  have  an  opinion  till  I  have 
gone  into  everything.  To-morrow  early  I  will  send  to  Ma- 
dame Jeanrenaud  to  call  on  me  in  my  private  office  at  four 
o'clock,  to  make  her  explain  the  facts  which  concern  her,  for 
she  is  compromised." 

"  1  should  very  much  like  to  know  what  the  end  will 
be." 

"  Why,  bless  me,  do  you  not  see  that  the  Marquise  is  the 
tool  of  that  tall  lean  man  who  never  uttered  a  word  ?  There 
is  a  strain  of  Cain  in  him,  but  of  the  Cain  who  goes  to  the 
law  courts  for  his  bludgeon,  and  there,  unluckily  for  him,  we 
keep  more  than  one  Damocles'  sword. 


THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  337 

"Oh,  Rastignac!  what  brought  you  into  that  boat,  I 
wonder?"  exclaimed  Bianchon. 

"Ah,  we  are  used  to  seeing  these  little  family  conspir- 
acies," said  Popinot.  "  Not  a  year  passes  without  a  number 
of  verdicts  of  '  insufficient  evidence  '  against  applications  of 
this  kind.  In  our  state  of  society  such  an  attempt  brings  no 
dishonor,  while  we  send  a  poor  devil  to  the  galleys  if  he 
breaks  a  pane  of  glass  dividing  him  from  a  bowl  full  of  gold. 
Our  Code  is  not  faultless." 

"  But  these  are  the  facts?  " 

"  My  boy,  do  you  not  know  all  the  judicial  romances  with 
which  clients  impose  on  their  attorneys  ?  If  the  attorneys 
condemned  themselves  to  state  nothing  but  the  truth,  they 
would  not  earn  enough  to  keep  their  office  open." 

Next  day,  at  four  in  the  afternoon,  a  very  stout  dame,  look- 
ing a  good  deal  like  a  cask  dressed  up  in  a  gown  and  belt, 
mounted  Judge  Popinot's  stairs,  perspiring  and  panting.  She 
had,  with  great  difficulty,  got  out  of  a  green  landau,  which 
suited  her  to  a  miracle ;  you  could  not  think  of  the  woman 
without  the  landau,  or  the  landau  without  the  woman, 

"It  is  I,  my  dear  sir,"  said  she,  appearing  in  the  doorway 
of  the  judge's  room.  "  Madame  Jeanrenaud,  whom  you 
summoned  exactly  as  if  I  were  a  thief,  neither  more  nor  less." 

The  common  words  were  spoken  in  a  common  voice,  broken 
by  the  wheezing  of  asthma,  and  ending  in  a  cough. 

"  When  I  go  through  a  damp  place,  I  can't  tell  you  what  I 
suffer,  sir.  I  shall  never  make  old  bones,  saving  your  pres- 
ence.    However,  here  I  am." 

The  lawyer  was  quite  amazed  at  the  appearance  of  this  sup- 
posed Marechale  d'Ancre.  Madame  Jeanrenaud's  face  was 
pitted  with  an  infinite  number  of  little  holes,  was  very  red, 
with  a  pug  nose  and  a  low  forehead,  and  was  as  round  as  a 
ball ;  for  everything  about  the  good  woman  was  round.  She 
had  the  bright  eyes  of  a  countrywoman,  an  honest  gaze,  a 
22 


338  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

cheerful  tone,  and  chestnut  hair  held  in  place  by  a  bonnet  cap 
under  a  green  bonnet  decked  with  a  shabby  bunch  of  auric- 
ulas. Her  stupendous  bust  was  a  thing  to  laugh  at,  for  it 
made  one  fear  some  grotesque  explosion  every  time  she 
coughed.  Her  enormous  legs  were  of  the  shape  which  make 
the  Paris  street  boy  describe  such  a  woman  as  being  built  on 
piles.  The  widow  wore  a  green  gown  trimmed  with  chin- 
chilla, which  looked  on  her  as  a  splash  of  dirty  oil  would  look 
on  a  bride's  veil.  In  short,  everything  about  her  harmonized 
with  her  last  words  :   "  Here  I  am." 

"Madame,"  said  Popinot,  "you  are  suspected  of  having 
used  some  seductive  arts  to  induce  M.  d'Espard  to  hand  over 
to  you  very  considerable  sums  of  money." 

*' Of  what !  of  what !  "  cried  she.  "Of  seductive  arts? 
But,  my  dear  sir,  you  are  a  man  to  be  respected,  and,  more- 
over, as  a  lawyer  you  ought  to  have  some  good  sense.  Look 
at  me  !  Tell  me  if  I  am  likely  to  seduce  any  one.  I  cannot 
tie  my  own  shoes,  nor  even  stoop.  For  these  twenty  years 
past,  the  Lord  be  praised,  I  have  not  dared  to  put  on  a  pair 
of  stays  under  pain  of  sudden  death.  I  was  as  thin  as  an 
asparagus  stalk  when  I  was  seventeen,  and  pretty  too — I  may 
say  so  now.  So  I  married  Jeanrenaud,  a  good  fellow,  and 
head  man  on  the  salt-barges.  I  had  my  boy,  who  is  a  fine 
young  man  ;  he  is  my  pride,  and  it  is  not  holding  myself 
cheap  to  say  he  is  my  best  piece  of  work.  My  little  Jeanre- 
naud was  a  soldier  who  did  Napoleon  credit,  and  who  served 
in  the  Imperial  Guard.  But,  alas  !  at  the  death  of  my  old 
man,  who  was  drowned,  times  changed  for  the  worse.  I  had 
the  smallpox.  I  was  kept  two  years  in  my  room  without  stir- 
ring, and  I  came  out  of  it  the  size  you  see  me,  hideous  for 
ever,  and  as  wretched  as  could  be.  These  are  my  seductive 
arts." 

"But  what,  then,  can  the  reasons  be  that  have  induced  M. 
d'Espard  to  give  you  sums ?  " 

"  Hugious  sums,  monsieur,  say  the  word ;  I  do  not  mind. 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  339 

But  as  to  his  reasons,  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  explain  them," 
said  she  with  marked  determination. 

"You  are  wrong.  At  this  moment,  his  family,  very 
naturally  alarmed,  are  about  to  bring  an  action " 

"  Heavens  above  us!"  said  the  good  woman,  starting  up. 
"Is  it  possible  that  he  should  be  worried  on  my  account? 
That  king  of  men,  a  man  that  has  not  his  match  !  Rather 
than  he  sliould  have  the  smallest  trouble,  or  a  hair  less  on  his 
head  I  could  almost  say,  we  would  return  every  sou,  monsieur. 
Write  that  down  on  your  papers.  Heaven  above  us  !  I  will 
go  at  once  and  tell  Jeanrenaud  what  is  going  on  !  A  pretty 
thing  indeed  !  " 

And  the  little  old  woman  went  out,  rolled  herself  down- 
stairs, and  disappeared. 

"That  one  tells  no  lies,"  said  Popinot  to  himself.  "Well, 
to-morrow  I  shall  know  the  whole  story,  for  I  shall  go  to  see 
the  Marquis  d'Espard. 

People  who  have  outlived  the  age  when  a  man  wastes  his 
vitality  at  random  know  how  great  an  influence  may  be  exer- 
cised on  more  important  events  by  apparently  trivial  incidents, 
and  will  not  be  surprised  at  the  weight  here  given  to  the  fol- 
lowing minor  fact.  Next  day  Popinot  had  an  attack  of 
coryza,  a  complaint  which  is  not  dangerous,  and  generally 
known  by  the  absurd  and  inadequate  name  of  a  cold  in  the 
head. 

The  judge,  who  could  not  suppose  that  the  delay  could  be 
serious,  feeling  himself  a  little  feverish,  kept  his  room,  and 
did  not  go  to  see  the  Marquis  d'Espard.  This  day  lost  was, 
to  this  affair,  what  on  the  Day  of  Dupes  the  cup  of  soup  had 
been,  taken  by  Marie  de  Medici,  which,  by  delaying  her 
meeting  with  Louis  XIII.,  enabled  Richelieu  to  arrive  at 
Saint-Germain,  the  point  of  destination,  before  her,  and  re- 
capture his  royal  slave. 

Before  accompanying  the  lawyer  and  his  registering  clerk  to 
the  Marquis  d'Espard's  house,  it  may  be  as  well  to  glance  at 


340  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

the  home  and  the  private  affairs  of  this  father  of  sons  whom 
his  wife's  petition  represented  to  be  a  madman. 

Here  and  there  in  the  old  parts  of  Paris  a  few  buildings 
may  still  be  seen  in  which  the  archaeologist  can  discern  an 
intention  of  decorating  the  city,  and  that  love  of  property 
which  leads  the  owner  to  give  a  durable  character  to  the 
structure.  The  house  in  which  M.  .d'Espard  was  then  living, 
in  the  Rue  de  la  Montagne-Sainte-Genevieve,  was  one  of  these 
old  mansions,  built  in  stone,  and  not  devoid  of  a  certain 
richness  of  style ;  but  time  had  blackened  the  stone,  and 
revolutions  in  the  town  had  damaged  it  both  outside  and 
inside.  The  dignitaries  who  formerly  dwelt  in  the  neiglibor- 
hood  of  the  University  having  disappeared  with  the  great 
ecclesiastical  foundations,  this  house  had  become  the  home  of 
industries  and  of  inhabitants  whom  it  was  never  destined  to 
shelter.  During  the  last  century  a  printing  establishment  had 
worn  down  the  polished  floors,  soiled  the  carved  wood,  black- 
ened the  walls,  and  altered  the  principal  internal  arrangements. 
Formerly  the  residence  of  a  cardinal,  this  fine  house  was  now 
divided  among  plebeian  tenants.  The  character  of  the  archi- 
tecture showed  that  it  had  been  built  under  the  reigns  of 
Henry  III.,  Henry  IV.,  and  Louis  XIII.,  at  the  time  when 
the  hotels  Mignon  and  Serpente  were  erected  in  the  same 
neighborhood,  with  the  palace  of  the  Princess  Palatine,  and 
the  Sorbonne.  An  old  man  could  remember  having  heard  it 
called,  in  the  last  century,  the  hotel  Duperron,  so  it  seemed 
probable  that  the  illustrious  cardinal  of  that  name  had  built, 
or  perhaps  merely  lived  in  it. 

There  still  exists,  indeed,  in  the  corner  of  the  courtyard  a 
perron  or  flight  of  several  outer  steps  by  which  the  house  is  en- 
tered ;  and  the  way  into  the  garden  on  the  garden  front  is  down 
a  similar  flight  of  steps.  In  spite  of  dilapidations,  the  luxury 
lavished  by  the  architect  on  the  balustrade  and  entrance  porch 
crowning  these  two  perrons  suggests  the  simple-minded  pur- 
pose of  commemorating  the   owner's  name,  a   sort  of  sculp- 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  341 

tured  pun  which  our  ancestors  often  allowed  themselves. 
Finally,  in  support  of  this  evidence,  archaeologists  can  still 
discern  in  the  medallions  which  show  on  the  principal  front 
some  traces  of  the  cords  of  the  Roman  hat. 

M.  le  Marquis  d'Espard  lived  on  the  ground  floor,  in  order, 
no  doubt,  to  enjoy  the  garden,  which  might  be  called  spa- 
cious for  that  neighborhood,  and  which  lay  open  to  the  south, 
two  advantages  imperatively  necessary  for  his  children's  health. 
The  situation  of  the  house,  in  a  street  on  a  steep  hill,  as  its 
name  indicates,  secured  these  ground -floor  rooms  against  ever 
being  damp.  M.  d'Espard  had  taken  them,  no  doubt,  for  a 
very  moderate  price,  rents  being  low  at  the  time  when  he 
settled  in  that  quarter,  in  order  to  be  among  the  schools  and 
to  superintend  his  boys'  education.  Moreover,  the  state  in 
which  he  found  the  place,  with  everything  to  repair,  had  no 
doubt  induced  the  owner  to  be  accommodating.  Thus  M. 
d'Espard  had  been  able  to  go  to  some  expense  to  settle  him- 
self suitably  without  being  accused  of  extravagance.  The 
loftiness  of  the  rooms,  the  paneling,  of  which  nothing  sur- 
vived but  the  frames,  the  decoration  of  the  ceilings,  all  dis- 
played the  dignity  which  the  prelacy  stamped  on  whatever  it 
attempted  or  created,  and  which  artists  discern  to  this  day  in 
the  smallest  relic  that  remains,  though  it  be  but  a  book,  a 
dress,  the  p)anel  of  a  bookcase,  or  an  armchair. 

The  Marquis  had  the  rooms  painted  in  the  rich  brown  tones 
beloved  of  the  Dutch  and  of  the  citizens  of  Old  Paris,  hues 
which  lend  such  good  effects  to  the  painter  of  genre.  The 
panels  were  hung  with  plain  paper  in  harmony  with  the  paint. 
The  window  curtains  were  of  inexpensive  materials,  but  chosen 
so  as  to  produce  a  generally  happy  result ;  the  furniture  was  not 
too  crowded  and  judiciously  placed.  Any  one  going  into 
this  home  could  not  resist  a  sense  of  sweet  peacefulness,  pro- 
duced by  the  perfect  calm,  the  stillness  which  prevailed,  by 
the  unpretentious  unity  of  color,  the  keeping  of  the  picture, 
in  the  words  a  painter  might  use.     A  certain  nobleness  in  the 


342  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

details,  the  exquisite  cleanliness  of  the  furniture,  and  a  perfect 
concord  of  men  and  things,  all  brought  the  word  "  suavity" 
to  the  lips. 

Few  persons  were  admitted  to  the  rooms  used  by  the  Marquis 
and  his  two  sons,  whose  life  might  perhaps  seem  mysterious 
to  their  neighbors.  In  a  wing  towards  the  street,  on  the  third 
floor,  there  are  three  large  rooms  which  had  been  left  in  a 
state  of  dilapidation  and  grotesque  bareness  to  which  they 
had  been  reduced  by  the  printing  works.  These  three  rooms, 
devoted  to  the  evolution  of  the  '*  Picturesque  History  of 
China,"  were  contrived  to  serve  as  a  writing-room,  a  deposi- 
tory, and  a  private  room,  where  M.  d'Espard  sat  during  part 
of  the  day  ;  for,  after  breakfast  till  four  in  the  afternoon,  the 
Marquis  remained  in  this  room  on  the  third  floor  to  work  at 
the  publication  he  had  undertaken.  Visitors  wanting  to  see 
him  commonly  found  him  there,  and  often  the  two  boys  on 
their  return  from  school  resorted  thither.  Thus  the  ground- 
floor  rooms  were  a  sort  of  sanctuary  where  the  father  and  sons 
spent  their  time  from  the  hour  of  dinner  till  the  next  day, 
and  his  domestic  life  was  carefully  closed  against  the  public  eye. 

His  only  servants  were  a  cook — an  old  woman  who  had 
long  been  attached  to  his  family — and  a  manservant  forty 
years  old,  who  was  with  him  when  he  married  Mademoiselle 
de  Blamont.  His  children's  nurse  had  also  remained  with 
them,  and  the  minute  care  to  which  the  apartment  bore  wit- 
ness revealed  the  sense  of  order  and  the  maternal  affection 
expended  by  this  woman  in  her  master's  interest,  in  the  man- 
agement of  his  house,  and  the  charge  of  his  children.  These 
three  good  souls,  grave  and  uncommunicative  folks,  seemed 
to  have  entered  into  the  idea  which  ruled  the  Marquis'  domes- 
tic life.  And  the  contrast  between  their  habits  and  those 
of  most  servants  was  a  peculiarity  which  cast  an  air  of 
mystery  over  the  house,  and  fomented  the  calumny  to  which 
M.  d'Espard  himself  lent  occasion.  Very  laudable  motives 
had  made  him  determine  never  to  be  on  visiting  terms  with 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LbNACY.  343 

any  of  the  other  tenants  in  the  house.  In  undertaking  to 
educate  his  boys  he  wished  to  keep  them  from  all  contact  with 
strangers.  Perhaps,  too,  he  wished  to  avoid  the  intrusion  of 
neighbors. 

In  a  man  of  his  rank,  at  a  time  when  the  Quartier  Latin 
was  distracted  by  Liberalism,  such  conduct  was  sure  to  rouse 
in  opposition  a  host  of  petty  passions,  of  feelings  whose  folly 
is  only  to  be  measured  by  their  meanness,  the  outcome  of 
porters'  gossip  and  malevolent  tattle  from  door  to  door,  all 
unknown  to  M.  d'Espard  and  his  retainers.  His  manservant 
was  stigmatized  as  a  Jesuit,  his  cook  as  a  sly  fox ;  the  nurse 
was  in  collusion  with  Madame  Jeanrenaud  to  rob  the  madman. 
The  madman  was  the  Marquis.  By  degrees  the  other  tenants 
came  to  regard  as  proofs  of  madness  a  number  of  things  they 
had  noticed  in  M.  d'Espard,  and  passed  through  the  sieve  of 
their  judgment  without  discerning  any  reasonable  motive  for 
them. 

Having  no  belief  in  the  success  of  "  the  History  of  China," 
they  had  managed  to  convince  the  landlord  of  the  house  that 
M.  d'Espard  had  no  money  just  at  a  time  when,  with  the  for- 
getfulness  which  often  befalls  busy  men,  he  had  allowed  the 
tax-collector  to  send  him  a  summons  for  non-payment  of 
arrears.  The  landlord  had  forthwith  claimed  his  quarter's 
rent  from  January  ist  by  sending  in  a  receipt,  which  the 
porter's  wife  had  amused  herself  by  detaining.  On  the  15th 
a  summons  to  pay  was  served  on  M.  d'Espard,  the  portress 
had  delivered  it  at  her  leisure,  and  he  supposed  it  to  be  some 
misunderstanding,  not  conceiving  of  any  incivility  from  a  man 
in  whose  house  he  had  been  living  for  twelve  years.  The 
Marquis  was  actually  seized  by  a  bailiff  at  the  time  when  his 
manservant  had  gone  to  carry  the  money  for  the  rent  to  the 
landlord. 

This  arrest,  insidiously  reported  to  the  persons  with  whom 
he  was  in  treaty  for  his  undertaking,  had  alarmed  some  of 
them  who  were  already  doubtful  of  M.  d'Espard's  solvency  in 


344  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

consequence  of  the  enormous  sums  which  Baron  Jeanrenaud 
and  his  mother  were  said  to  be  receiving  from  him.  And, 
indeed,  these  suspicions  on  the  part  of  the  tenants,  the  cred- 
itors, and  the  landlord  had  some  excuse  in  the  Marquis' 
extreme  economy  in  housekeeping.  He  conducted  it  as  a 
ruined  man  might.  His  servants  always  paid  in  ready  money 
for  the  most  trifling  necessaries  of  life,  and  acted  as  not 
choosing  to  take  credit ;  if  now  they  had  asked  for  anything 
on  credit,  it  would  probably  have  been  refused,  calumnious 
gossip  had  been  so  widely  believed  in  the  neighborhood. 
There  are  tradesmen  who  like  those  of  their  customers  who 
pay  badly  when  they  see  them  often,  while  they  hate  others, 
and  very  good  ones,  who  hold  themselves  on  too  high  a  level 
to  allow  of  any  familiarity  as  chums,  a  vulgar  but  expressive 
word.  Men  are  made  so ;  in  almost  every  class  they  will 
allow  to  a  gossip,  or  a  vulgar  soul  that  flatters  them,  facilities 
and  favors  they  refuse  to  the  superiority  they  resent,  in  what- 
ever form  it  may  show  itself.  The  shopkeeper  who  rails  at 
the  court  has  his  courtiers. 

In  short,  the  manners  of  the  Marquis  and  his  children  were 
certain  to  arouse  ill-feeling  in  their  neighbors,  and  to  work 
them  up  by  degrees  to  the  pitch  of  malevolence  when  men  do 
not  hesitate  at  an  act  of  meanness  if  only  it  may  damage  the 
adversary  they  have  themselves  created. 

M.  d'Espard  was  a  gentleman,  as  his  wife  was  a  lady,  by 
birth  and  breeding;  noble  types,  already  so  rare  in  France 
that  the  observer  can  easily  count  the  persons  who  perfectly 
realize  them.  These  two  characters  are  based  on  primitive 
ideas,  on  beliefs  that  may  be  called  innate,  on  habits  formed 
in  infancy,  and  which  have  ceased  to  exist.  To  believe  in 
pure  blood,  in  a  privileged  race,  to  stand  in  thought  above 
other  men,  must  we  not  from  birth  have  measured  the  distance 
which  divides  patricians  from  the  mob?  To  command,  must 
we  not  have  never  met  our  equal  ?  And,  finally,  must  not 
educatipn  inculcate  the  i^eas  with  which  nature  inspires  those 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  345 

great  men  on  whose  brow  she  has  placed  a  crown  before  their 
mother  has  ever  set  a  kiss  there  ?  These  ideas,  this  education, 
are  no  longer  possible  in  France,  where  for  forty  years  past 
chance  has  arrogated  the  right  of  making  noblemen  by  dip- 
ping them  in  the  blood  of  battles,  by  gilding  them  with  glory, 
by  crowning  them  with  the  halo  of  genius;  where  the  aboli- 
tion of  entail  and  of  eldest  sonship,  by  frittering  away  estates, 
compels  the  nobleman  to  attend  to  his  own  business  instead 
of  attending  to  affairs  of  state,  and  where  personal  greatness 
can  only  be  such  greatness  as  is  acquired  by  long  and  patient 
toil ;  quite  a  new  era. 

Regarded  as  a  relic  of  that  great  institution  known  as  feu- 
dalism, M.  d'Espard  deserved  respectful  admiration.  If  he 
believed  himself  to  be  by  blood  the  superior  of  other  men,  he 
also  believed  in  all  the  obligations  of  nobility  ;  he  had  the 
virtues  and  the  strength  it  demands.  He  had  brought  up  his 
children  in  his  own  principles,  and  taught  them  from  the 
cradle  the  religion  of  their  caste.  A  deep  sense  of  their  own 
dignity,  pride  of  name,  the  conviction  that  they  were  by  birth 
great,  gave  rise  in  them  to  a  kingly  pride,  the  courage  of 
knights,  and  the  protecting  kindness  of  a  baronial  lord  ;  their 
manners,  harmonizing  with  their  notions,  would  have  become 
princes,  and  offended  all  the  world  of  the  Rne  de  la  Mon- 
tagne-Sainte-Genevieve — a  world,  above  all  others,  of  equality, 
where  every  one  believed  that  M.  d'Espard  was  ruined,  and 
where  all,  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest,  refused  the  privi- 
leges of  nobility  to  a  nobleman  without  money,  because  they 
all  were  ready  to  allow  an  enriched  bourgeois  to  usurp  them. 
Thus  the  lack  of  communion  between  this  family  and  other 
persons  was  as  much  moral  as  it  was  physical. 

In  the  father  and  the  children  alike,  their  personality  har- 
monized with  the  spirit  within.  M.  d'Espard,  at  this  time 
about  fifty,  might  have  sat  as  a  model  to  represent  the  aristoc- 
racy of  birth  in  the  nineteenth  century.  He  was  slight  and 
fair  ]  there  was  in  the  outline  and  general  expression  of  his 


346  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

face  a  native  distinction  whicli  spoke  of  lofty  sentiments,  but 
it  bore  the  impress  of  a  deliberate  coldness  which  commanded 
respect  a  little  too  decidedly.  His  aquiline  nose  bent  at  the 
tip  from  left  to  right,  a  slight  crookedness  which  was  not 
devoid  of  grace ;  his  blue  eyes,  his  high  forehead,  prominent 
enough  at  the  brows  to  form  a  thick  ridge  that  checked  the 
light  and  shaded  his  eyes,  all  indicated  a  spirit  of  rectitude 
capable  of  perseverance  and  perfect  loyalty,  while  it  gave  a 
singular  look  to  his  countenance.  This  pent-house  forehead 
might,  in  fact,  hint  at  a  touch  of  madness,  and  his  thick- 
knitted  eyebrows  added  to  the  apparent  eccentricity.  He  had 
the  white  well-kept  hands  of  a  gentleman ;  his  foot  was  high 
and  narrow.  His  hesitating  speech — not  merely  as  to  his 
pronunciation,  which  was  that  of  a  stammerer,  but  also  in  the 
expression  of  his  ideas,  his  thought,  and  language — produced 
on  the  mind  of  the  hearer  the  impression  of  a  man  who,  in 
familiar  phraseology,  comes  and  goes,  feels  his  way,  tries 
everything,  breaks  off  his  gestures,  and  finishes  nothing. 
This  defect  was  purely  superficial,  and  in  contrast  with  the 
decisiveness  of  a  firmly-set  mouth,  and  the  strongly-marked 
character  of  his  physiognomy.  His  rather  jerky  gait  matched 
his  mode  of  speech.  These  peculiarities  helped  to  affirm  his 
supposed  insanity.  In  spite  of  his  elegant  appearance,  he 
was  systematically  parsimonious  in  his  personal  expenses,  and 
wore  the  same  black  frockcoat  for  three  or  four  years,  brushed 
with  extreme  care  by  his  old  manservant. 

As  to  the  children,  they  both  were  handsome,  and  endowed 
with  a  grace  which  did  not  exclude  an  expression  of  aristo- 
cratic disdain.  They  had  the  bright  coloring,  the  clear  eye, 
the  transparent  flesh  which  reveal  habits  of  purity,  regularity 
of  life,  and  a  due  proportion  of  work  and  play.  They  both 
had  black  hair  and  blue  eyes,  and  a  twist  in  their  nose,  like 
their  father  ;  but  their  mother,  perliaps,  had  transmitted  to 
them  the  dignity  of  speech,  of  look  and  mien,  which  are 
hereditary  in  the  Blamont-Chauvrys.     Their  voices,  as  clear 


THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  347 

as  crystal,  had  an  emotional  quality,  the  softness  which  proves 
so  seductive ;  they  had,  in  short,  the  voice  a  woman  would 
willingly  listen  to  after  feeling  the  flame  of  their  looks.  But, 
above  all,  they  had  the  modesty  of  pride,  a  chaste  reserve,  a 
touch-me-not  which  at  a  maturer  age  might  have  seemed  inten- 
tional shyness,  so  much  did  their  demeanor  inspire  a  wish  to 
know  them.  The  elder,  Comte  Clement  de  Negrepelisse,  was 
close  upon  his  sixteenth  year.  For  the  last  two  years  he  had 
ceased  to  wear  the  pretty  English  round  jacket  which  his 
brother,  Vicomte  Camille  d'Espard,  still  wore.  The  Count, 
who  for  the  last  six  months  went  no  more  to  the  College 
Henri  IV.,  was  dressed  in  the  style  of  a  young  man  enjoying 
the  first  pleasures  of  fashion.  His  father  had  not  wished  to 
condemn  him  to  a  year's  useless  study  of  philosophy  ;  he  was 
trying  to  give  his  knowledge  some  consistency  by  the  study  of 
transcendental  mathematics.  At  the  same  time,  the  Marquis 
was  having  him  taught  Eastern  languages,  the  international 
law  of  Europe,  heraldry,  and  history  from  the  original 
sources — charters,  early  documents,  and  collections  of  edicts. 
Camille  had  lately  begun  to  study  rhetoric. 

The  day  when  Popinot  arranged  to  go  to  question  M. 
d'Espard  was  a  Thursday,  a  holiday.  At  about  nine  in  the 
morning,  before  their  father  was  awake,  the  brothers  were 
playing  in  the  garden.  Clement  was  finding  it  hard  to  refuse 
his  brother,  who  was  anxious  to  go  to  the  shooting  gallery  for 
the  first  time,  and  who  begged  him  to  second  his  request  to 
the  Marquis.  The  Viscount  always  rather  took  advantage  of 
his  weakness,  and  was  very  fond  of  wrestling  with  his  brother. 
So  the  couple  were  quarreling  and  fighting  in  play  like 
schoolboys.  As  they  ran  in  the  garden,  chasing  each  other, 
they  made  so  much  noise  as  to  wake  their  father,  who  came  to 
the  window  without  their  perceiving  him  in  the  heat  of  the 
fray.  The  Marquis  amused  himself  with  watching  his  two 
children  twisted  together  like  snakes,  their  faces  flushed  by 
the  exertion  of  their  strength  ;  their  complexion  was  rose  and 


348  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

white,  their  eyes  flashed  sparks,  their  limbs  writhed  like  cords 
in  the  fire  ;  they  fell,  sprang  up  again,  and  caught  each  other 
like  athletes  in  a  circus,  affording  their  father  one  of  those 
moments  of  happiness  which  would  make  amends  for  the 
keenest  anxieties  of  a  busy  life.  Two  other  persons,  one  on 
the  second  and  one  on  the  first  floor,  were  also  looking  into 
the  garden,  and  saying  that  the  old  madman  was  amusing 
himself  by  making  his  children  fight.  Immediately  a  number 
of  heads  appeared  at  the  windows ;  the  Marquis,  noticing 
them,  called  to  his  sons,  who  at  once  climbed  up  to  the 
window  and  jumped  into  his  room,  and  Clement  obtained  the 
permission  asked  by  Camille. 

All  through  the  house  every  one  was  talking  of  the  Mar- 
quis' new  form  of  insanity.  When  Popinot  arrived  at  about 
twelve  o'clock,  accompanied  by  his  clerk,  the  portress,  when 
he  asked  for  M.  d'Espard,  conducted  him  to  the  third  floor, 
telling  him  "as  how  M.  d'Espard,  no  longer  ago  than  that 
very  morning,  had  set  on  his  two  children  to  fight,  and 
laughed  like  the  monster  he  was  on  seeing  the  younger  biting 
the  elder  till  he  bled,  and  as  how  no  doubt  he  longed  to  see 
them  kill  each  other.  Don't  ask  me  the  reason  why,"  she 
added  ;  "  he  doesn't  know  himself  !" 

Just  as  the  woman  spoke  these  decisive  words,  she  had  brought 
the  judge  to  the  landing  on  the  third  floor,  face  tp  face  with 
a  door  covered  with  notices  announcing  the  successive  num- 
bers of  "  The  Picturesque  History  of  China."  The  muddy 
floor,  the  dirty  banisters,  the  door  where  the  printers  had  left 
their  marks,  the  dilapidated  window,  and  the  ceiling  on  which 
the  apprentices  had  amused  themselves  with  drawing  monstros- 
ities with  the  smoky  flare  of  their  tallow  dips,  the  piles  of 
paper  and  litter  heaped  up  in  the  corners,  intentionally  or 
from  sheer  neglect — in  short,  every  detail  of  the  picture  lying 
before  his  eyes — agreed  so  well  with  the  facts  alleged  by  the 
Marquise  that  the  judge,  in  spite  of  his  impartiality,  could  not 
help  believing  them. 


THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  349 

"There  you  are,  gentlemen,"  said  the  porter's  wife; 
**  there  is  the  malefactor,  where  the  Chinese  swallow  up 
enough  to  feed  the  whole  neighborhood." 

The  clerk  looked  at  the  judge  with  a  smile,  and  Popinot 
found  it  hard  to  keep  his  countenance.  They  went  together 
into  the  outer  room,  where  sat  an  old  man,  who,  no  doubt, 
performed  the  functions  of  office  clerk,  shopman,  and  cashier. 
This  old  man  was  the  Maitre  Jacques  of  China.  Along  tlie 
walls  ran  long  shelves,  on  which  the  published  numbers  lay  in 
piles.  A  partition  in  wood,  with  a  grating  lined  with  green 
curtains,  cut  off  the  end  of  the  room,  forming  a  private  office, 
A  till  with  a  slit  to  admit  or  disgorge  crown-pieces  indicated 
the  cash-desk. 

"  M.  d'Espard?"  said  Popinot,  addressing  the  man,  who 
wore  a  gray  blouse. 

The  shopman  opened  the  door  into  the  next  room,  where 
the  lawyer  and  his  companion  saw  a  venerable  old  man,  white- 
headed  and  simply  dressed,  wearing  the  Cross  of  Saint  Louis, 
seated  at  a  desk.  He  ceased  comparing  some  sheets  of 
colored  prints  to  look  up  at  the  two  visitors.  This  room  was 
an  unpretentious  office,  full  of  books  and  proof-sheets.  There 
was  a  black  wood  table  at  which  some  one,  at  the  moment 
absent,  no  doubt  was  accustomed  to  work. 

"The  Marquis  d'Espard?"  said  Popinot. 

"No,  monsieur,"  said  the  old  man,  rising;  "what  do  you 
want  with  him?"  he  added,  coming  forward,  and  showing  by 
his  demeanor  the  dignified  manners  and  habits  due  to  a 
gentlemanly  education. 

"  We  wish  to  speak  to  him  on  business  exclusively  personal 
to  himself,"  replied  Popinot. 

"  D'Espard,  here  are  some  gentlemen  who  want  to  see 
you,"  then  said  the  old  man,  going  into  the  rear  room, 
where  the  Marquis  was  sitting  by  the  fire  reading  the  news- 
paper. 

This  innermost  room  had  a  shabby  carpet,  the  windows 


350  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

were  hung  with  gray  Holland  curtains ;  the  furniture  consisted 
of  a  i&^  mahogany  chairs,  two  armchairs,  a  desk  with  a 
revolving  front,  an  ordinary  office  table,  and,  on  the  chim- 
ney-shelf, a  dingy  clock  and  two  old  candlesticks.  The  old 
man  led  the  way  for  Popinot  and  his  registrar,  and  pulled  for- 
ward two  chairs,  as  though  he  were  master  of  the  place ;  M. 
d'Espard  left  it  to  him.  After  the  preliminary  civilities, 
during  which  the  judge  watched  the  supposed  lunatic,  the 
Marquis  naturally  asked  what  was  the  object  cf  this  visit.  On 
this  Popinot  glanced  significantly  at  the  old  gentleman  and 
the  Marquis. 

"I  believe.  Monsieur  le  Marquis,"  said  he,  "that  the 
character  of  my  functions  and  the  inquiry  that  has  brought 
me  here  make  it  desirable  that  we  should  be  alone,  though  it 
is  understood  by  law  that  in  such  cases  the  inquiries  have  a 
sort  of  family  publicity.  I  am  judge  of  the  Inferior  Court  of 
Appeal  for  the  Department  of  the  Seine,  and  charged  by  the 
president  with  the  duty  of  examining  you  as  to  certain  facts 
set  forth  in  a  petition  for  a  commission  in  lunacy  on  the  part 
of  the  Marquise  d'Espard. 

The  old  man  withdrew.  When  the  lawyer  and  the  Marquis 
were  alone,  the  clerk  shut  the  door,  and  seated  himself  uncer- 
emoniously at  the  office  table,  where  he  laid  out  his  papers 
and  prepared  to  take  down  his  notes.  Popinot  had  still  kept 
his  eye  on  M.  d'Espard;  he  was  watching  the  effect  on  him 
of  this  crude  statement,  so  painful  for  a  man  in  full  possession 
of  his  reason.  The  Marquis  d'Espard,  whose  face  was  usually 
pale,  as  are  those  of  fair  men,  suddenly  turned  scarlet  with 
anger ;  he  trembled  for  an  instant,  sat  down,  laid  his  paper 
on  the  chimney-piece,  and  looked  down.  In  a  moment  he 
had  recovered  his  gentlemanly  dignity,  and  looked  steadily 
at  the  judge,  as  if  to  read  in  his  countenance  the  indications 
of  his  character. 

"How  is  it,  monsieur,"  he  asked,  "that  I  have  had  no 
notice  of  such  a  petition  ?  " 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  361 

'*  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  persons  on  whom  such  a  commission 
is  held,  not  being  supposed  to  have  the  use  of  their  reason, 
any  notice  of  the  petition  is  unnecessary.  The  duty  of  the 
court  chiefiy  consists  in  verifying  the  allegations  of  the  peti- 
tioner." 

"Nothing  can  be  fairer,"  replied  the  Marquis.  "Well, 
then,  monsieur,  be  so  good  as  to  tell  me  what  I  ought  to 
do " 

"You  have  only  to  answer  my  questions,  omitting  nothing. 
However  delicate  the  reasons  may  be  which  may  have  led 
you  to  act  in  such  a  manner  as  to  give  Madame  d'Espard  a 
pretext  for  her  petition,  speak  without  fear.  It  is  unnecessary 
to  assure  you  that  lawyers  know  their  duties,  and  that  in  such 
cases  the  profoundest  secrecy " 

"Monsieur,"  said  the  Marquis,  whose  face  expressed  the 
sincerest  pain,  "  if  my  explanations  should  lead  to  any  blame 
being  attached  to  Madame  d'Espard's  conduct,  what  will  be 
the  result?" 

"The  court  may  add  its  censure  to  its  reasons  for  its 
decision.'^ 

"Is  such  censure  optional?  If  I  were  to  stipulate  with 
you,  before  replying,  that  nothing  should  be  said  that 
could  annoy  Madame  d'Espard  in  the  event  of  your  report 
being  in  my  favor,  would  the  court  take  my  request  into  con- 
sideration ?  " 

The  judge  looked  at  the  Marquis,  and  the  two  men  ex- 
changed sentiments  of  equal  magnanimity. 

"Noel,"  said  Popinot  to  his  registrar,  "go  into  the  other 
room.  If  you  can  be  of  use,  I  will  call  you  in.  If,  as  I  am 
inclined  to  think,"  he  went  on,  speaking  to  the  Marquis  when 
the  clerk  had  gone  out,  "  I  find  that  there  is  some  misunder- 
standing in  this  case,  I  can  promise  you,  monsieur,  that  on 
your  application  the  court  will  act  with  due  courtesy. 

"There  is  a  leading  fact  put  forward  by  Madame  d'Espard, 
the  most  serious  of  all,  of  which  I  must  beg  for  an  explana- 


352  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

tion,"  said  the  judge  after  a  pause.  "It  refers  to  the  dissi- 
pation of  your  fortune  to  the  advantage  of  a  certain  Madame 
Jeanrenaud,  the  widow  of  a  bargemaster — or  rather,  to  that 
of  her  son,  Colonel  Jeanrenaud,  for  whon.  you  are  said  to 
have  procured  an  appointment,  to  have  exhausted  your  influ- 
ence with  the  King,  and  at  last  to  have  extended  such  pro- 
tection as  secures  him  a  good  marriage.  The  petition  suggests 
that  such  a  friendship  is  more  devoted  than  any  feelings,  even 
those  which  morality  must  disapprove " 

A  sudden  flush  crimsoned  the  Marquis'  face  and  forehead, 
tears  even  started  to  his  eyes,  for  his  eyelashes  were  wet,  then 
wholesome  pride  crushed  the  emotions,  which  in  a  man  are 
accounted  a  weakness. 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,  monsieur,"  said  the  Marquis,  in  a 
broken  voice,  "you  place  me  in  a  strange  dilemma.  The 
motives  of  my  conduct  were  to  have  died  with  me.  To  reveal 
them  I  must  disclose  to  you  some  secret  wounds,  must  place 
the  honor  of  my  family  in  your  keeping,  and  must  speak  of 
myself,  a  delicate  matter,  as  you  will  fully  understand.  I 
hope,  monsieur,  that  it  will  all  remain  a  secret  between  us. 
You  will,  no  doubt,  be  able  to  find  in  the  formulas  of  the 
law  one  which  will  allow  of  judgment  being  pronounced 
without  any  betrayal  of  my  confidences." 

"  So  far  as  that  goes,  it  is  perfectly  possible.  Monsieur  le 
Marquis." 

"Some  time  after  my  marriage,"  said  M.  d'Espard,  "my 
wife  having  run  into  considerable  expenses,  I  was  obliged  to 
have  recourse  to  borrowing.  You  know  what  was  the  position 
of  noble  families  during  the  Revolution  ;  I  had  not  been  able 
to  keep  a  steward  or  a  man  of  business.  Nowadays  gentlemen 
are  for  the  most  part  obliged  to  manage  their  affairs  them- 
selves. Most  of  my  title-deeds  had  been  brought  to  Paris, 
from  Languedoc,  Provence,  or  le  Comtat,  by  my  father,  who 
dreaded,  and  not  without  reason,  the  inquisition  which  family 
title-deeds,  and  what  were  then  styled  the  '  parchments '  of  the 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LbNACY.  353 

privileged  class,  brought  down  on  the  individnal  owners  of 
landed  estates. 

"  Our  name  is  Negrepelisse ;  d'Espard  is  a  title  acquired  in 
the  time  of  Henry  IV.  by  a  marriage  which  brought  us 
the  estates  and  titles  of  the  house  of  d'Espard,  on  condition 
of  our  bearing  an  escutcheon  of  pretence  on  our  coat-of-arms, 
those  of  the  house  of  d'Espard,  an  old  family  of  Beam,  con- 
nected in  the  female  line  with  that  of  Albret :  quarterly,  paly 
of  or  and  sable ;  and  azure  two  griffins'  claws  armed,  gules  in 
saltire,  with  the  famous  motto  Des partetn  leonis.  At  the  time 
of  this  alliance  we  lost  Negrepelisse,  a  little  town  which  was 
as  famous  during  the  religious  struggles  as  was  my  ancestor 
who  then  bore  the  name.  Captain  de  Negrepelisse  was  ruined 
by  the  burning  of  all  his  property,  for  the  Protestants  did  not 
spare  a  friend  of  Montluc's. 

"  The  Crown  was  unjust  to  M.  de  Negrepelisse ;  he  received 
neither  a  marshal's  baton,  nor  a  post  as  governor,  nor  any 
indemnity;  King  Charles  IX.,  who  was  fond  of  him,  died 
without  being  able  to  reward  him  ;  Henry  IV.  arranged  his 
marriage  with  Mademoiselle  d'Espard,  and  secured  him  the 
estates  of  that  house,  but  all  those  of  the  Negrepelisses  had 
already  passed  into  the  hands  of  his  creditors. 

"  My  great-grandfather,  the  Marquis  d'Espard,  was,  like 
me,  placed  early  in  life  at  the  head  of  his  family  by  the 
death  of  his  father,  who,  after  dissipating  his  wife's  fortune, 
left  his  son  nothing  but  the  entailed  estates  of  the  d'Espards, 
burdened  with  a  jointure.  The  young  Marquis  was  all  the 
more  straitened  for  money  because  he  held  a  post  at  Court. 
Being  in  great  favor  with  Louis  XIV.,  the  King's  good-will 
brought  him  a  fortune.  But  here,  monsieur,  a  blot  stained 
our  escutcheon,  an  unconfessed  and  horrible  stain  of  blood 
and  disgrace  which  I  am  making  it  my  business  to  wipe  out. 
I  discovered  the  secret  among  the  deeds  relating  to  the  estate 
of  Negrepelisse  and  the  packets  of  letters." 

At  this  solemn  moment  the  Marquis  spoke  without  hesita- 
23 


364  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

tion  or  any  of  the  repetition  habitual  with  him ;  but  it  is  a 
matter  of  common  observation  that  persons  who,  in  ordinary- 
life,  are  afflicted  with  these  two  defects,  are  freed  from  them 
as  soon  as  any  passionate  emotion  underlies  their  speech. 

"  The  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes  was  decreed,"  he 
went  on.  "  You  are  no  doubt  aware,  monsieur,  that  this  was 
an  opportunity  for  many  favorites  to  make  their  fortunes. 
Louis  XIV.  bestowed  on  the  magnates  about  his  Court  the 
confiscated  lands  of  those  Protestant  families  who  did  not  take 
the  prescribed  steps  for  the  sale  of  their  property.  Some 
persons  in  high  favor  went  '  Protestant-hunting,'  as  the  phrase 
was.  I  have  ascertained  beyond  a  doubt  that  the  fortune 
enjoyed  to  this  day  by  two  ducal  families  is  derived  from 
lands  seized  from  hapless  merchants. 

"  I  will  not  attempt  to  explain  to  you,  a  man  of  law,  all  the 
manoeuvres  employed  to  entrap  the  refugees  who  had  large 
fortunes  to  carry  away.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  the  lands 
of  Negrepelisse,  comprising  twenty-two  churches  and  rights 
over  the  town,  and  those  of  Gravenges  which  had  formerly 
belonged  to  us,  were  at  that  time  in  the  hands  of  a  Protestant 
family.  My  grandfather  recovered  them  by  gift  from  Louis 
XIV.  This  gift  was  effected  by  documents  hall-marked  by 
atrocious  iniquity.  The  owner  of  these  two  estates,  thinking 
he  would  be  able  to  return,  had  gone  through  the  form  of  a 
sale,  and  was  going  to  Switzerland  to  join  his  family,  whom 
he  had  sent  in  advance.  He  wished,  no  doubt,  to  take  advan- 
tage of  every  delay  granted  by  the  law,  so  as  to  settle  the 
concerns  of  his  business. 

*'  This  man  was  arrested  by  order  of  the  Governor,  the 
trustee  confessed  the  truth,  the  poor  merchant  was  hanged, 
and  my  ancestor  had  the  two  estates.  I  would  gladly  have  been 
able  to  ignore  the  share  he  took  in  the  plot ;  but  the  Governor 
was  his  uncle  on  the  mother's  side,  and  I  have  unfortunately 
read  the  letter  in  which  he  begged  him  to  apply  to  Deodatus, 
the  name  agreed  upon  by  the  Court  to  designate  the  King.   In 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  365 

this  letter  there  is  a  tone  of  jocosity  with  reference  to  the 
victim,  which  filled  me  with  horror.  In  the  end,  the  sums  of 
money  sent  by  the  refugee  family  to  ransom  the  poor  man's 
life  were  kept  by  the  Governor,  who  dispatched  the  merchant 
all  the  same." 

The  Marquis  paused,  as  though  the  memory  of  it  were  still 
too  heavy  for  him  to  bear. 

"This  unfortunate  family  were  named  Jeanrenaud,"  he 
went  on.  "  The  name  is  enough  to  account  for  my  conduct. 
I  could  never  think  without  keen  pain  of  the  secret  disgrace 
that  weighed  on  my  family.  That  fortune  enabled  my  grand- 
father to  marry  a  demoiselle  de  Navarreins-Lansac,  heiress  to 
the  younger  branch  of  that  house,  who  were  at  that  time  much 
richer  than  the  elder  branch  of  the  Navarreins.  My  father 
thus  became  one  of  the  largest  landowners  in  the  kingdom. 
He  was  able  to  marry  my  mother,  a  Grandlieu  of  the  younger 
branch.  Though  ill-gotten,  this  property  has  been  singularly 
profitable. 

"  For  my  part,  being  determined  to  remedy  the  mischief,  I 
wrote  to  Switzerland,  and  knew  no  peace  till  I  was  on  the 
traces  of  the  Protestant  victim's  heirs.  At  last  I  discovered 
that  the  Jeanrenauds,  reduced  to  abject  want,  had  left  Fribourg 
and  returned  to  live  in  France.  Finally,  I  found  in  M.  Jean- 
renaud, lieutenant  in  a  cavalry  regiment  under  Napoleon, 
the  sole  heir  of  this  unhappy  family.  In  my  eyes,  monsieur, 
the  rights  of  the  Jeanrenauds  were  clear.  To  establish  a 
prescriptive  right  is  it  not  necessary  that  there  should  have 
been  some  possibility  of  proceeding  against  those  who  are  in 
the  enjoyment  of  it?  To  whom  could  these  refugees  have 
appealed?  Their  court  of  justice  was  on  high,  or  rather, 
monsieur,  it  was  here,"  and  the  Marquis  struck  his  hand  on  his 
heart.  "  I  did  not  choose  that  my  children  should  be  able 
to  think  of  me  as  I  have  thought  of  my  father  and  of  my 
ancestors.  I  aim  at  leaving  them  an  unblemished  inheritance 
and  escutcheon.     I  did  not  choose  that  nobility  should  be  a 


356  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

lie  in  my  person.  And,  after  all,  politically  speaking,  ought 
those  emigres  who  are  now  appealing  against  revolutionary 
confiscations,  to  keep  the  property  derived  from  antecedent 
confiscations  by  positive  crimes  ? 

"I  found  in  M.  Jeanrenaud  and  his  mother  the  most  per- 
verse honesty ;  to  hear  them  you  would  suppose  that  they  were 
robbing  me.  In  spite  of  all  I  could  say,  they  will  accept  no 
more  than  the  value  of  the  lands  at  the  time  when  the  King 
bestowed  them  on  my  family.  The  price  was  settled  between 
us  at  the  sum  of  eleven  hundred  thousand  francs,  which  I  was 
to  pay  at  my  convenience  and  without  interest.  To  achieve 
this  I  had  to  forego  my  income  for  a  long  time.  And  then, 
monsieur,  began  the  destruction  of  some  illusions  I  had 
allowed  myself  as  to  Madame  d'Espard's  character.  When  I 
proposed  to  her  that  we  should  leave  Paris  and  go  into  the 
country,  where  we  could  live  respected  on  half  of  her  income, 
and  so  more  rapidly  complete  a  restitution  of  which  I  spoke  to 
her  without  going  into  the  more  serious  details,  Madame 
d'Espard  treated  me  as  a  madman.  I  then  understood  my 
wife's  real  character.  She  would  have  approved  of  my 
grandfather's  conduct  without  a  scruple,  and  have  laughed 
at  the  Huguenots.  Terrified  by  her  coldness,  and  her  little 
affection  for  her  children,  whom  she  abandoned  to  me  without 
a  regret,  I  determined  to  leave  her  the  command  of  her  for- 
tune, after  paying  our  common  debts.  It  was  no  business  of 
hers,  as  she  told  me,  to  pay  for  my  follies.  As  I  then  had  not 
enough  to  live  on  and  pay  for  my  sons'  education,  I  deter- 
mined to  educate  them  myself,  to  make  them  gentlemen  and  men 
of  feeling.  By  investing  my  money  in  the  funds  I  have  been 
enabled  to  pay  off  my  obligation  sooner  than  I  had  dared  to 
hope,  for  I  took  advantage  of  the  opportunities  afforded  by 
the  improvement  in  prices.  If  I  had  kept  four  thousand 
francs  a  year  for  my  boys  and  myself,  I  could  only  have  paid 
off  twenty  thousand  crowns  a  year,  and  it  would  have  taken 
almost  eighteen  years  to  achieve  my  freedom.     As  it  is,  I 


THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  357 

have  lately  repaid  the  whole  of  the  eleven  hundred  thousand 
fraiics  that  were  due.  Thus  I  enjoy  the  happiness  of  having 
made  this  restitution  without  doing  my  children  the  smallest 
wrong. 

''These,  monsieur,  are  the  reasons  for  the  payments  made 
to  Madame  Jeanrenaud  and  her  son." 

"So  Madame  d'Espard  knew  the  motives  of  your  retire- 
ment?" said  the  judge,  controlling  the  emotion  he  felt  at 
this  narrative. 

"Yes,  monsieur," 

Popinot  gave  an  expressive  shrug ;  he  rose  and  opened  the 
door  into  the  next  room. 

"  Noel,  you  can  go,"  said  he  to  his  clerk. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  went  on,  "  though  what  you  have  told  me 
is  enough  to  enlighten  me  thoroughly,  I  should  like  to  hear 
what  you  have  to  say  to  the  other  facts  put  forward  m  the 
petition.  For  instance,  you  are  here  carrying  on  a  business 
such  as  is  not  habitually  undertaken  by  a  man  of  rank." 

"We  cannot  discuss  that  matter  here,"  said  the  Marquis, 
signing  to  the  judge  to  quit  the  room.  "  Nouvion,"  .said  he 
to  the  old  man,  "I  am  going  down  to  my  rooms;  the  chil- 
dren will  soon  be  in  ;  dine  with  us." 

"Then,  Monsieur  le  Marquis,"  said  Popinot  on  the  stairs, 
"  that  is  not  your  apartment  !  " 

"No,  monsieur;  I  took  those  rooms  for  the  office  of  this 
undertaking.  You  see,"  and  he  pointed  to  an  advertisement 
sheet,  "the  'History*  is  being  brought  out  by  one  of  the 
most  respectable  firms  in  Paris,  and  not  by  me." 

The  Marquis  showed  the  lawyer  into  the  ground-floor 
rooms,  saying,  "This  is  my  apartment." 

Popinot  was  quite  touched  by  the  poetry,  not  aimed  at  but 
pervading  this  dwelling.  The  weather  was  lovely,  the 
windows  were  open,  the  air  from  the  garden  brought  in  a 
wholesome  earthy  smell,  the  sunshine  brightened  and  gilded 
the   woodwork,  of    a  rather  gloomy  brown.     At   the  sight 


358  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LLNACY. 

Popinot  made  up  his  mind  that  a  madman  would  hardly  be 
capable  of  inventing  the  tender  harmony  of  which  he  was  at 
that  moment  conscious. 

"  I  should  like  just  such  an  apartment,"  thought  he.  "  You 
think  of  leaving  this  part  of  the  town  ?  "   he  inquired. 

"I  hope  so,"  replied  the  Marquis.  "But  I  shall  remain 
till  my  younger  son  has  finished  his  studies,  and  till  the  chil- 
dren's character  is  thoroughly  formed,  before  introducing 
them  to  the  world  and  to  their  mother's  circle.  Indeed,  after 
giving  them  the  solid  information  they  possess,  I  intend  to 
complete  it  by  taking  them  to  travel  to  the  capitals  of  Europe, 
that  they  may  see  men  and  things,  and  become  accustomed  to 
speak  the  languages  they  have  learned.  And,  monsieur,"  he 
went  on,  giving  the  judge  a  chair  in  the  drawing-room,  "I 
could  not  discuss  the  book  on  China  with  you,  in  the  presence 
of  an  old  friend  of  my  family,  the  Comte  de  Nouvion,  who, 
having  emigrated,  has  returned  to  France  without  any  fortune 
whatever,  and  who  is  my  partner  in  this  concern,  less  for  my 
profit  than  his.  Without  telling  him  what  my  motives  were, 
I  explained  to  him  that  I  was  as  poor  as  he,  but  that  I  had 
enough  money  to  start  a  speculation  in  which  he  might  be 
usefully  employed.  My  tutor  was  the  Abbe  Grozier,  whom 
Charles  X.  on  my  recommendation  appointed  Keeper  of  the 
Books  at  the  Arsenal,  which  were  returned  to  that  Prince 
when  he  was  still  monsieur.  The  Abb6  Grozier  was  deeply 
learned  with  regard  to  China,  its  manners  and  customs ;  he 
made  me  heir  to  this  knowledge  at  an  age  when  it  is  difficult 
not  to  become  a  fanatic  for  the  things  we  learn.  At  five-and- 
twenty  I  knew  Chinese,  and  I  confess  I  have  never  been  able 
to  check  myself  in  an  exclusive  admiration  for  that  nation, 
who  conquered  their  conquerors,  whose  annals  extend  back 
indisputably  to  a  period  more  remote  than  mythological  or 
Biblical  times,  who  by  their  immutable  institutions  have  pre- 
served the  integrity  of  their  empire,  whose  monuments  are 
gigantic,    whose    administration    is    perfect,    among    whom 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  359 

revolutions  are  impossible,  who  have  regarded  ideal  beauty  as 
a  barren  element  in  art,  who  have  carried  luxury  and  industry 
to  such  a  pitch  that  we  cannot  outdo  them  in  anything,  while 
they  are  our  equals  in  things  where  we  believe  ourselves 
superior. 

**  Still,  monsieur,  though  I  often  make  a  jest  of  comparing 
China  with  the  present  condition  of  European  states,  I  am 
not  a  Chinaman,  I  am  a  French  gentleman.  If  you  entertain 
any  doubts  as  to  the  financial  side  of  this  undertaking,  I  can 
prove  to  you  that  at  this  moment  we  have  two  thousand  five 
hundred  subscribers  to  this  work,  which  is  literary,  icono- 
graphical,  statistical,  and  religious ;  its  importance  has  been 
generally  appreciated  ;  our  subscribers  belong  to  every  nation 
in  Europe,  we  have  but  twelve  hundred  in  France.  Our  book 
will  cost  about  three  hundred  francs,  and  the  Comte  de 
Nouvion  will  derive  from  it  from  six  to  seven  thousand  francs 
a  year,  for  his  comfort  was  the  real  motive  of  the  undertaking. 
For  my  part,  I  aimed  only  at  the  possibility  of  affording  my 
children  some  pleasures.  The  hundred  thousand  francs  I  have 
made,  quite  in  spite  of  myself,  will  pay  for  their  fencing 
lessons,  horses,  dress,  and  theatres,  pay  the  masters  who  teach 
them  accomplishments,  procure  them  canvases  to  spoil,  the 
books  they  may  wish  to  buy,  in  short,  all  the  little  fancies 
which  a  father  finds  so  much  pleasure  in  gratifying.  If  I  had 
been  compelled  to  refuse  these  indulgences  to  my  poor  boys, 
who  are  so  good  and  work  so  hard,  the  sacrifice  I  made  to  the 
honor  of  my  name  would  have  been  doubly  trying  and  more 
painful  to  me. 

"  In  point  of  fact,  the  twelve  years  I  have  spent  in  retire- 
ment from  the  world  to  educate  my  children  have  led  to  my 
being  completely  forgotten  at  Court.  I  have  given  up  the 
career  of  politics  ;  I  have  lost  my  historical  fortune,  and  all 
the  distinctions  which  I  might  have  acquired  and  bequeathed 
to  my  children;  but  our  house  will  have  lost  nothing;  my 
boys  will  be  men  of  mark.     Though  I  have  missed  the  senator- 


360  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

ship,  they  will  win  it  nobly  by  devoting  themselves  to  the 
affairs  of  the  country,  and  doing  such  service  as  is  not  soon 
forgotten.  While  purifying  the  past  record  of  my  family,  I 
have  insured  it  a  glorious  future ;  and  is  not  that  to  have 
achieved  a  noble  task,  though  in  secret  and  without  glory  ? 
And  now,  monsieur,  have  you  any  other  explanations  to  ask 
of  me?" 

At  this  instant  the  tramp  of  horses  was  heard  in  the  court- 
yard. 

"  Here  they  are !  "  said  the  Marquis.  In  a  moment  the 
two  lads,  fashionably  but  plainly  dressed,  came  into  the  room, 
booted,  spurred,  and  gloved,  and  flourishing  their  riding- 
whips.  Their  beaming  faces  brought  in  the  freshness  of  the 
outer  air ;  they  were  brilliant  with  health.  They  both  grasped 
their  father's  hand,  giving  him  a  look,  as  friends  do,  a  glance 
of  unspoken  affection,  and  then  they  bowed  coldly  to  the 
lawyer.  Popinot  felt  that  it  was  quite  unnecessary  to  question 
the  Marquis  as  to  his  relations  towards  his  sons. 

"  Have  you  enjoyed  yourselves?  "  asked  the  Marquis. 

"Yes,  father;  I  knocked  down  six  dolls  in  twelve  shots  at 
the  first  trial  !  "  cried  Camille. 

"  And  where  did  you  ride?  " 

"  In  the  Bois ;  we  saw  our  mother." 

"  Did  she  stop?" 

"  We  were  riding  so  fast  just  then  that  I  daresay  she  did 
not  see  us,"  replied  the  young  Count. 

"  But,  then,  why  did  you  not  go  to  speak  to  her  ?  " 

"  I  fancy  I  have  noticed,  father,  that  she  does  not  care  that 
we  should  speak  to  her  in  public."  said  Clement,  in  an  under- 
tone.    "  We  are  a  little  too  big." 

The  judge's  hearing  was  keen  enough  to  catch  these  words, 
which  brought  a  cloud  to  the  Marquis'  brow.  Popinot  took 
pleasure  in  contemplating  the  picture  of  the  father  and  his 
boys.  His  eyes  went  back  with  a  sense  of  pathos  to  M. 
d'Espard's  face;  his  features,  his  expression,  and  his  manner 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  361 

all  expressed  honesty  in  its  noblest  aspect,  intellectual  and 
chivalrous  honesty,  nobility  in  all  its  beauty. 

"You — you  see,  monsieur,"  said  the  Marquis,  and  his  hesi- 
tation had  returned,  "  you  see  that  Justice  may  look  in — in 
here  at  any  time — yes,  at  any  time — here.  If  there  is  any- 
body crazy,  it  can  only  be  the  children — the  children — who 
are  a  little  crazy  about  their  father,  and  the  father  who  is 
very  crazy  about  his  children — but  that  sort  of  madness  rings 
true." 

At  this  juncture  Madame  Jeanrenaud's  voice  was  heard  in 
the  anteroom,  and  the  good  woman  came  bustling  in,  in  spite 
of  the  manservant's  remonstrances. 

**  I  take  no  roundabout  ways,  I  can  tell  you!"  she  ex- 
claimed. "  Yes,  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  I  want  to  speak  to 
you,  this  very  minute,"  she  went  on,  with  a  comprehensive 
bow  to  the  company.  "By  George,  and  I  am  too  late  as  it 
is,  since  monsieur  the  criminal  judge   is  before  me." 

"  Criminal !  "  cried  the  two  boys. 

**  Good  reason  why  I  did  not  find  you  at  your  own  house, 
since  you  are  here.  Well,  well !  the  law  is  always  to  the  fore 
when  there  is  mischief  brewing.  I  came,  Monsieur  le  Mar- 
quis, to  tell  you  that  my  son  and  I  are  of  one  mind  to  give 
you  everything  back,  since  our  honor  is  threatened.  My  son 
and  I,  we  had  rather  give  you  back  everything  than  cause  you 
the  smallest  trouble.  My  word,  they  must  be  as  stupid  as 
pans  without  handles  to  call  you  a  lunatic " 

"  A  lunatic  !  My  father  ?  "  exclaimed  the  boys,  clinging  to 
the  Marquis.     "  What  is  this  ? ' ' 

"Silence,  madame,"  said  Popinot. 

"Children,  leave  us,"  said  the  Marquis. 

The  two  boys  went  into  the  garden  without  a  word,  but 
very  much  alarmed. 

"  Madame,"  said  the  judge,  "  the  moneys  paid  to  you  by 
Monsieur  le  Marquis  were  legally  due,  though  given  to  you  in 
virtue  of  a  very  far-reaching  theory  of  honesty.     If  all  the 


362  THE   COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

people  possessed  of  confiscated  goods,  by  whatever  cause,  even 
if  acquired  by  treachery,  were  compelled  to  make  restitution 
every  hundred  and  fifty  years,  there  would  be  few  legitimate 
owners  in  France.  The  possessions  of  Jacques  Coeur  enriched 
twenty  noble  families  ;  the  confiscations  pronounced  by  the 
English  to  the  advantage  of  their  adherents  at  the  time  when 
they  held  a  part  of  France  made  the  fortune  of  several  princely 
houses. 

"  Our  laws  allow  M.  d'Espard  to  dispose  of  his  income 
without  accounting  for  it,  or  suffering  him  to  be  accused  of  its 
misapplication.  A  commission  in  lunacy  can  only  be  granted 
when  a  man's  actions  are  devoid  of  reason  ;  but  in  this  case 
the  remittances  made  to  you  have  a  reason  based  on  the  most 
sacred  and  most  honorable  motives.  Hence  you  may  keep  it 
all  without  remorse,  and  leave  the  world  to  misinterpret  a 
noble  action.  In  Paris,  the  highest  virtue  is  the  object  of  the 
foulest  calumny.  It  is,  unfortunately,  the  present  condition 
of  society  that  makes  the  Marquis'  actions  sublime.  For  the 
honor  of  my  country,  I  would  that  such  deeds  were  regarded 
as  a  matter  of  course  ;  but,  as  things  are,  I  am  forced  by  com- 
parison to  look  upon  M.  d'Espard  as  a  man  to  whom  a  crown 
should  be  awarded,  rather  than  that  he  should  be  threatened 
with  a  commission  in  lunacy. 

"  In  the  course  of  a  long  professional  career,  I  have  seen 
and  heard  nothing  which  has  touched  me  more  deeply  than 
that  I  have  just  seen  and  heard.  But  it  is  not  extraordinary 
that  virtue  should  wear  its  noblest  aspect  when  it  is  practiced 
by  men  of  the  highest  class. 

"  Having  heard  me  express  myself  in  this  way,  I  hope. 
Monsieur  le  Marquis,  that  you  feel  certain  of  my  silence,  and 
that  you  will  not  for  a  moment  be  uneasy  as  to  the  decision 
pronounced  in  the  case — if  it  comes  before  the  court." 

"  There,   now  !     Well  said,"  cried    Madame  Jeanrenaud 
"  That  is  something  like  a  judge  !     Look  here,  my  dear  sir,  I 
would  hug  you  if  I  were  not  so  ugly;  you  speak  like  a  book." 


THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY.  363 

The  Marquis  held  out  his  hand  to  Popinot,  who  gently 
pressed  it  with  a  look  full  of  sympathetic  comprehension  at 
this  great  man  in  private  life,  and  the  Marquis  responded  with 
a  pleasant  smile.  These  two  natures,  both  so  large  and  full 
— one  commonplace  but  divinely  kind,  the  other  lofty  and 
sublime — had  fallen  into  unison  gently,  without  a  jar,  without 
a  flash  of  passion,  as  though  two  pure  lights  had  been  merged 
into  one.  The  father  of  a  whole  district  felt  himself  worthy 
to  grasp  the  hand  of  this  man  who  was  doubly  noble,  and  the 
Marquis  felt  in  the  depths  of  his  soul  an  instinct  that  told 
him  that  the  judge's  hand  was  one  of  those  from  which  the 
treasures  of  inexhaustible  beneficence  perennially  flow. 

"Monsieur  le  Marquis,"  added  Popinot,  with  a  bow,  "I 
am  happy  to  be  able  to  tell  you  that,  from  the  first  words  of 
this  inquiry,  I  regarded  my  clerk  as  quite  unnecessary." 

He  went  close  to  M.  d'Espard,  led  him  into  the  window- 
bay,  and  said:  "It  is  time  that  you  should  return  home, 
monsieur.  I  believe  that  Madame  la  Marquise  has  acted  in 
this  matter  under  an  influence  which  you  ought  at  once  to 
counteract." 

Popinot  withdrew ;  he  looked  back  several  times  as  he 
crossed  the  courtyard,  touched  by  the  recollection  of  the 
scene.  It  was  one  of  those  which  take  root  in  the  memory  to 
blossom  again  in  certain  hours  when  the  soul  seeks  consolation. 

"  Those  rooms  would  just  suit  me,"  said  he  to  himself  as  he 
reached  home.  "  If  M.  d'Espard  leaves  them,  I  will  take  up 
his  lease." 

The  next  day,  at  about  ten  in  the  morning,  Popinot,  who 
had  written  out  his  report  the  previous  evening,  made  his  way 
to  the  Palais  de  Justice,  intending  to  have  prompt  and  right- 
eous justice  done.  As  he  went  into  the  robing-room  to  put 
on  his  gown  and  bands,  the  usher  told  him  that  the  president 
of  his  court  begged  him  to  attend  in  his  private  room,  where 
he  was  waiting  for  him.     Popinot  forthwith  obeyed. 


364  THE    COMMISSION  IN  LUNACY. 

"Good  morning,  my  dear  Popinot,"  said  the  president, 
"I  have  been  waiting  for  you." 

**  Why,  Monsieur  le  President,  is  anything  wrong  ?  " 

"A  mere  silly  trifle,"  said  the  president.  "The  Keeper 
of  the  Seals,  with  whom  I  had  the  honor  of  dining  yesterday, 
led  me  apart  into  a  corner.  He  had  heard  that  you  had  been 
to  tea  with  Madame  d'Espard,  in  whose  case  you  were  em- 
ployed to  make  inquiries.  He  gave  me  to  understand  that  it 
would  be  as  well  that  you  should  not  sit  on  this  case " 

"But,  Monsieur  le  President,  I  can  prove  that  I  left  Ma- 
dame d'Espard's  house  at  the  moment  when  tea  was  brought 
in.     And  my  conscience " 

"Yes,  yes;  the  whole  bench,  the  two  courts,  all  the  pro- 
fession know  you.  I  need  not  repeat  what  I  said  about  you 
to  his  eminence  ;  but  you  know,  '  Caesar's  wife  must  not  be 
suspected.'  So  we  shall  not  make  this  foolish  trifle  a  matter 
of  discipline,  but  only  of  the  proprieties.  Between  ourselves, 
it  is  not  on  your  account,  but  on  that  of  the  bench." 

"  But,  indeed,  monsieur,  if  you  only  just  knew  the  kind  of 

woman "  said  the  judge,  trying  to  pull  his  report  out  of 

his  pocket. 

"  I  am  perfectly  certain  that  you  have  proceeded  in  this 
matter  with  the  strictest  independence  of  judgment.  I  myself, 
in  the  provinces,  have  often  taken  more  than  a  cup  of  tea 
with  :he  people  I  had  to  try :  but  the  fact  that  the  Keeper  of 
the  Seals  should  have  mentioned  it,  and  that  you  might  be 
talked  about,  is  enough  to  make  the  court  avoid  any  discus- 
sion of  the  matter.  Any  conflict  with  public  opinion  must 
always  be  dangerous  for  a  constitutional  body,  even  when  the 
right  is  on  its  side  against  the  public,  because  their  weapons 
are  not  equal.  Journalism  may  say  or  suppose  anything,  and 
our  dignity  forbids  us  even  to  reply.  In  fact,  I  have  spoken 
of  the  matter  to  your  president,  and  M.  Camusot  has  been 
appointed  in  your  place  on  your  retirement,  which  you  will 
signify.     It  is  a  family  matter,  so  to  speak.     And  I  now  beg 


THE    COMMISSION  IN   LUNACY.  365 

you  to  signify  your  retirement  from  the  case  as  a  personal 
favor.  To  make  uj),  you  will  get  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor,  which  has  so  long  been  due  to  you.  I  make  that  my 
business. ' ' 

When  he  saw  M.  Camusot,  a  judge  recently  called  to  Paris 
from  a  provincial  court  of  the  same  class,  as  he  went  forward 
bowing  to  the  judge  and  the  president,  Popinot  could  not 
repress  an  ironical  smile.  This  pale,  fair  young  man,  full  of 
covert  ambiiion,  looked  ready  to  hang  and  unhang,  at  the 
pleasure  of  any  earthly  king,  the  innocent  and  the  guilty 
alike,  and  to  follow  the  example  of  a  Laubardemont  rather  than 
that  of  a  Mole. 

Popinot  withdrew  with  a  bow;  he  scorned  to  deny  the 
lying  accusation  that  had  been  brought  against  him. 

Paris,  February,  1836. 


THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS. 

{La  Messe  de  V  A  thee.') 

Translated  by  Clara  Bell. 

This  is  dedicated  to  Angus te  Borget  by  his  friend  De  Balzac. 

BiANCHON,  a  physician  to  whom  science  owes  a  fine  system 
of  theoretical  physiology,  and  who,  while  still  young,  made 
himself  a  celebrity  in  the  medical  school  of  Paris,  that  cen- 
tral luminary  to  which  European  doctors  do  homage,  practiced 
surgery  for  a  long  time  before  he  took  up  medicine.  His 
earliest  studies  were  guided  by  one  of  the  greatest  of  French 
surgeons,  the  illustrious  Desplein,  who  flashed  across  science 
like  a  meteor.  By  the  consensus  even  of  his  enemies,  he  took 
with  him  to  the  tomb  an  incommunicable  method.  Like  all 
men  of  genius,  he  had  no  heirs  ;  he  carried  everything  in 
him,  and  carried  it  away  with  him.  The  glory  of  a  surgeon 
is  like  that  of  an  actor ;  they  live  only  so  long  as  they  are 
alive,  and  their  talent  leaves  no  trace  when  they  are  gone. 
Actors  and  surgeons,  like  great  singers  too,  like  the  executants 
who  by  their  performance  increase  the  power  of  music  tenfold, 
are  all  the  heroes  of  a  moment. 

Desplein  is  a  case  in  proof  of  this  resemblance  in  the 
destinies  of  such  transient  genius.  His  name,  yesterday  so 
famous,  to-day  almost  forgotten,  will  survive  in  his  special 
department  without  crossing  its  limits.  For  must  there  not 
be  some  extraordinary  circumstances  to  exalt  the  name  of  a 
professor  from  the  history  of  science  to  the  general  history  of 
the  human  race?  Had  Desplein  that  universal  command  of 
knowledge  which  makes  a  man  the  living  word,  the  great 
figure  of  his  age?  Desplein  had  a  godlike  eye  ;  he  saw  into 
the  sufferer  and  his  malady  by  an  intuition,  natural  or 
acquired,  which  enabled  him  to  grasp  the  diagnostics  peculiar 
(366) 


THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS.  367 

to  the  individual,  to  determine  the  very  time,  the  hour,  the 
minute  when  an  operation  should  be  performed,  making  due 
allowance  for  atmospheric  conditions  and  peculiarities  of 
individual  temperament.  To  proceed  thus,  hand  in  hand 
with  nature,  had  he  then  studied  the  constant  assimilation  by 
living  beings,  of  the  elements  contained  in  the  atmosphere,  or 
yielded  by  the  earth  to  man  who  absorbs  them,  deriving  from 
them  a  particular  expression  of  life  ?  Did  he  work  it  all  out 
by  the  power  of  deduction  and  analogy,  to  which  we  owe  the 
genius  of  Cuvier  ?  Be  this  as  it  may,  this  man  was  in  all  the 
secrets  of  the  human  frame ;  he  knew  it  in  the  past  and  in  the 
future,  emphasizing  the  present. 

But  did  he  epitomize  all  science  in  his  own  person  as  Hip- 
pocrates did  and  Galen  and  Aristotle  ?  Did  he  guide  a  whole 
school  towards  new  worlds  ?  No.  Though  it  is  impossible 
to  deny  tliat  this  persistent  observer  of  human  chemistry  pos- 
sessed the  antique  science  of  the  Mages,  that  is  to  say,  knowl- 
edge of  the  elements  in  fusion,  the  causes  of  life,  life  ante- 
cedent to  life,  and  what  it  must  be  in  its  incubation  or  ever  it 
is,  it  must  be  confessed  that,  unfortunately,  everything  in  him 
was  purely  personal.  Isolated  during  his  life  by  his  egoism, 
that  egoism  is  now  suicidal  of  his  glory.  On  his  tomb  there 
is  no  proclaiming  statue  to  repeat  to  posterity  the  mysteries 
which  genius  seeks  out  at  its  own  cost. 

But  perhaps  Desplein's  genius  was  answerable  for  his  beliefs, 
and  for  that  reason  mortal.  To  him  the  terrestrial  atmos- 
phere was  a  generative  envelope ;  he  saw  the  earth  as  an  egg 
within  its  shell ;  and  not  being  able  to  determine  whether  the 
egg  or  the  hen  first  was,  he  would  not  recognize  either  the 
cock  or  the  egg.  He  believed  neither  in  the  antecedent 
animal  nor  the  surviving  spirit  of  man.  Desplein  had  no 
doubts ;  he  was  positive.  His  bold  and  unqualified  atheism 
w>as  like  that  of  many  scientific  men,  the  best  men  in  the 
world,  but  invincible  atheists — atheists  such  as  religious  people 
declare  to  be  impossible.     This  opinion  could  scarcely  exist 


868  THE  ATHEISTS  MASS. 

Otherwise  in  a  man  who  was  accustomed  from  his  youth  to 
dissect  the  creature  above  all  others — before,  during,  and 
after  life ;  to  hunt  through  all  his  organs  without  ever  finding 
the  individual  soul,  which  is  indispensable  to  religious  theory. 
When  he  detected  a  cerebral  centre,  a  nervous  centre,  and  a 
centre  for  aerating  the  blood — the  tWo  first  so  perfectly  com- 
plementary that  in  the  latter  years  of  his  life  he  came  to  a 
conviction  that  the  sense  of  hearing  is  not  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  hearing,  nor  the  sense  of  sight  for  seeing,  and  that 
the  solar  plexus  could  supply  their  place  without  any  pos- 
sibility of  doubt — Desplein,  thus  finding  two  souls  in  man, 
confirmed  his  atheism  by  this  fact,  though  it  is  no  evidence 
against  God.  This  man  died,  it  is  said,  in  final  impenitence, 
as  do,  unfortunately,  many  noble  geniuses,  whom  God  may 
forgive. 

The  life  of  this  man,  great  as  he  was,  was  marred  by  many 
meannesses,  to  use  the  expression  employed  by  his  enemies, 
who  were  anxious  to  diminish  his  glory,  but  which  it  would  be 
more  proper  to  call  apparent  contradictions.  Envious  people 
and  fools,  having  no  knowledge  of  the  determinations  by 
which  superior  spirits  are  moved,  seize  at  once  on  superficial 
inconsistencies,  to  formulate  an  accusation  and  so  to  pass 
sentence  on  them.  If,  subsequently,  the  proceedings  thus 
attacked  are  crowned  with  success,  showing  the  correlation  of 
the  preliminaries  and  the  results,  a  few  of  the  vanguard  of 
calumnies  always  survive.  In  our  own  day,  for  instance. 
Napoleon  was  condemned  by  our  contemporaries  when  he 
spread  his  eagle's  wings  to  alight  f'n  Fngland  :  only  1822  could 
explain  1804  and  the  flat  boats  at  Boulogne. 

As,  in  Desplein,  his  glory  and  science  were  invulnerable,  his 
enemies  attacked  his  odd  moods  and  his  temper,  whereas,  in 
fact,  he  was  simply  characterized  by  what  the  English  call 
eccentricity.  Sometimes  very  handsomely  dressed,  like  Cr6- 
billon  the  tragical,  he  would  suddenly  affect  extreme  indiffer- 
ence as  to  what  he  wore ;  he  was  sometimes  seen  in  a  carriage. 


THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS.  369 

and  sometimes  on  foot.  By  turns  rough  and  kind,  harsh  and 
covetous  on  the  surface,  but  capable  of  offering  his  whole 
fortune  to  his  exiled  masters — who  did  him  the  honor  of 
accepting  it  for  a  few  days — no  man  ever  gave  rise  to  such 
contradictory  judgments.  Although  to  obtain  a  black  ribbon, 
which  physicians  ought  not  to  intrigue  for,  he  was  capable  of 
dropping  a  prayer-book  out  of  his  pocket  at  Court,  in  his  heart 
he  mocked  at  everything  ;  he  had  a  deep  contempt  for  men, 
after  studying  them  from  above  and  below,  after  detecting 
their  genuine  expression  when  performing  the  most  solemn 
and  the  meanest  acts  of  their  lives. 

The  qualities  of  a  great  man  are  often  federative.  If  among 
these  colossal  spirits  one  has  more  talent  than  wit,  his  wit  is 
still  superior  to  that  of  a  man  of  whom  it  is  simply  stated  that 
"he  is  witty."  Genius  always  presupposes  moral  insight. 
This  insight  may  be  applied  to  a  special  subject ;  but  he  who 
can  see  a  flower  must  be  able  to  see  the  sun.  The  man  who  on 
hearing  a  diplomate  he  had  saved  ask,  "  How  is  the  Emperor  ?" 
could  say,  "  The  courtier  is  alive;  the  man  will  follow  !  " — 
that  man  is  not  merely  a  surgeon  or  a  physician,  he  is  prodig- 
iously witty  also.  Hence  a  patient  and  diligent  student  of 
human  nature  will  admit  Desplein's  exorbitant  pretensions, 
and  believe — as  he  himself  believed — that  he  might  have  been 
no  less  great  as  a  minister  than  he  was  as  a  surgeon. 

Among  the  riddles  which  Desplein's  life  presents  to  many 
of  his  contemporaries,  we  have  chosen  one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting, because  the  answer  is  to  be  found  at  the  end  of  the 
narrative,  and  will  avenge  him  for  some  foolish  charges. 

Of  all  the  students  in  Desplein's  hospital,  Horace  Bianchon 
was  one  of  those  to  whom  he  most  warmly  attached  himself. 
Before  being  a  house  surgeon  at  the  Hotel-Dieu,  Horace 
Bianchon  had  been  a  medical  student  lodging  in  a  squalid 
boarding-house  in  the  Quartier  Latin,  known  as  the  Maison 
Vauquer.  This  poor  young  man  had  felt  there  the  gnawing 
of  that  burning  poverty  which  is  a  sort  of  crucible  from  which 
24 


370  THE   ATHEIST'S  MASS. 

great  talents  are  to  emerge  as  pure  and  incorruptible  as 
diamonds,  which  may  be  subjected  to  any  shock  without  being 
crushed.  In  the  fierce  fire  of  their  unbridled  passions  they 
acquire  the  most  impeccable  honesty,  and  get  into  the  habit 
of  fighting  the  battles  which  await  genius  with  the  constant 
work  by  which  they  coerce  their  cheated  appetites. 

Horace  was  an  upright  young  fellow,  incapable  of  tergiver- 
sation on  a  matter  of  honor,  going  to  the  point  without  waste 
of  words,  and  as  ready  to  pledge  his  cloak  for  a  friend  as  to 
give  him  his  time  and  his  night  hours.  Horace,  in  short,  was 
one  of  those  friends  who  are  never  anxious  as  to  what  they 
may  get  in  return  for  what  they  give,  feeling  sure  that  they 
will  in  their  turn  get  more  than  they  give.  Most  of  his 
friends  felt  for  him  that  deeply-seated  respect  which  is  inspired 
by  unostentatious  virtue,  and  many  of  them  dreaded  his  cen- 
sure. But  Horace  made  no  pedantic  display  of  his  qualities. 
He  was  neither  a  puritan  nor  a  preacher ;  he  could  swear  with 
a  grace  as  he  gave  his  advice,  and  was  always  ready  for  a 
jollification  when  occasion  offered.  A  jolly  companion,  not 
more  prudish  than  a  trooper,  as  frank  and  outspoken — not  as 
a  sailor,  for  nowadays  sailors  are  wily  diplomates — but  as  an 
honest  man  who  has  nothing  in  his  life  to  hide,  he  walked 
with  his  head  erect,  and  a  mind  content.  In  short,  to  put 
the  facts  into  a  word,  Horace  was  the  Pylades  of  more  than 
one  Orestes — creditors  being  regarded  as  the  nearest  modern 
equivalent  to  the  Furies  of  the  ancients. 

He  carried  his  poverty  with  the  cheerfulness  which  is  per- 
haps one  of  the  chief  elements  of  courage,  and,  like  all  f>eople 
who  have  nothing,  he  made  very  few  debts.  As  sober  as  a 
camel  and  active  as  a  stag,  he  was  steadfast  in  his  ideas  and 
his  conduct. 

The  happy  phase  of  Bianchon's  life  began  on  the  day  when 
the  famous  surgeon  had  proof  of  the  qualities  and  the  defects 
which,  these  no  less  than  those,  make  Doctor  Horace  Bian- 
chon  doubly  dear  to  his  friends.     When  a  leading  clinical 


THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS.  371 

practitioner  takes  a  young  man  to  his  bosom,  that  young  man 
has,  as  they  say,  his  foot  in  the  stirrup.  Desplein  did  not  fail 
to  take  Bianchon  as  his  assistant  to  wealthy  houses,  where 
some  complimentary  fee  almost  always  found  its  way  into  the 
student's  pocket,  and  where  the  mysteries  of  Paris  life  were 
insensibly  revealed  to  the  young  provincial ;  he  kept  him  at 
his  side  when  a  consultation  was  to  be  held,  and  gave  him 
occupation ;  sometimes  he  would  send  him  to  a  watering- 
place  with  a  rich  patient ;  in  fact,  he  was  making  a  practice 
for  him.  The  consequence  was  that  in  the  course  of  time  the 
king  of  surgery  had  a  devoted  ally.  These  two  men— one  at 
the  summit  of  honor  and  of  his  science,  enjoying  an  immense 
fortune  and  an  immense  reputation  ;  the  other  an  humble 
Omega,  having  neither  fortune  nor  fame — became  intimate 
friends. 

The  great  Desplein  told  his  house  surgeon  everything ;  the 
disciple  knew  whether  such  or  such  a  woman  had  sat  on  a 
chair  near  the  master,  or  on  the  famous  couch  in  Desplein's 
surgery,  on  which  he  slept ;  Bianchon  knew  the  mysteries  of 
that  temperament,  a  compound  of  the  lion  and  the  bull,  which 
at  last  expanded  and  enlarged  beyond  measure  the  great  man's 
torso,  and  caused  his  death  by  degeneration  of  the  heart. 
He  studied  the  eccentricities  of  that  busy  life,  the  schemes  of 
that  sordid  avarice,  the  hopes  of  the  politician  who  lurked 
behind  the  man  of  science  ;  he  was  able  to  foresee  the  mortifi- 
cations that  awaited  the  only  sentiment  that  lay  hid  in  a  heart 
that  was  steeled,  but  not  of  steel. 

One  day  Bianchon  spoke  to  Desplein  of  a  poor  water- 
carrier  of  the  Saint-Jacques  district,  who  had  a  horrible  dis- 
ease caused  by  fatigue  and  want ;  this  wretched  Auvergnat 
had  had  nothing  but  potatoes  to  eat  during  the  dreadful  win- 
ter of  1822.  Desplein  left  all  his  visits,  and,  at  the  risk  of 
killing  his  horse,  he  rushed  off,  followed  by  Bianchon,  to  the 
poor  man's  dwelling,  and  saw,  himself,  to  his  being  removed 
to  a  sick  house,  founded  by  the  famous  Dubois  in  the  Faubourg 


372  THE   ATHEIST'S  MASS. 

Saint-Denis.  Then  he  went  to  attend  the  man,  and  when  he 
had  cured  him  he  gave  him  the  necessary  sum  to  buy  a  horse 
and  a  water-barrel.  This  Auvergnat  distinguished  himself  by 
an  amusing  action.  One  of  his  friends  fell  ill,  and  he  took 
him  at  once  to  Desplein,  saying  to  his  benefactor,  "  I  could 
not  have  borne  to  let  him  go  to  any  one  else  !  " 

Rough  customer  as  he  was,  Desplein  grasped  the  water- 
carrier's  hand,  and  said,  "Bring  them  all  to  me!  Bring 
them  all  to  me  !  " 

He  got  the  native  of  Cantal  into  the  H6tel-Di  eu,  where  he 
took  the  greatest  care  of  him.  Bianchon  had  already  ob- 
served in  his  chief  a  predilection  for  Auvergnats,  and  especially 
for  water-carriers ;  but  as  Desplein  took  a  sort  of  pride  in  his 
cures  at  the  Hotel-Dieu,  the  pupil  saw  nothing  very  strange 
in  that. 

One  day,  as  he  crossed  the  Place  Saint-Sulpice,  Bianchon 
caught  sight  of  his  master  going  into  the  church  at  about  nine 
in  the  morning.  Desplein,  who  at  that  time  never  went  a 
step  without  his  cab,  was  on  foot,  and  slipped  in  by  the  door 
in  the  Rue  du  Petit-Lion,  as  if  he  were  stealing  into  some 
house  of  ill-fame.  The  house  surgeon,  naturally  possessed 
by  curiosity,  knowing  his  master's  opinions,  and  being  him- 
self a  rabid  follower  of  Cabanis  {Cabaniste  en  dyable,  with  the 
y,  which  in  Rabelais  seems  to  convey  an  intensity  of  deviltry) 
— Bianchon  stole  into  the  church,  and  was  not  a  little  aston- 
ished to  see  the  great  Desplein,  the  atheist,  who  had  no  mercy 
on  the  angels — who  give  no  work  to  the  lancet,  and  cannot 
suffer  from  fistula  or  gastritis — in  short,  this  audacious  scoffer 
kneeling  humbly,  and  where  ?  In  the  Lady  Chapel,  where  he 
remained  through  the  mass,  giving  alms  for  the  expenses  of 
the  service,  alms  for  the  poor,  and  looking  as  serious  as  though 
he  were  superintending  an  operation. 

"  He  has  certainly  not  come  here  to  clear  up  the  question 
of  the  Virgin's  delivery,"  said  Bianchon  to  himself,  aston- 
ished beyond  measure.     "  If  I  had  caught  him  holding  one 


THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS.  373 

of  the  ropes  of  the  canopy  on  Corpus  Christi  day,  it  would  be 
a  thing  to  laugh  at ;  but  at  this  hour,  alone,  with  no  one  to 
see — it  is  surely  a  thing  to  marvel  at  !  " 

Bianchon  did  not  wish  to  seem  as  tliough  he  were  spying 
the  head  surgeon  of  the  Hotel -Dieu ;  he  went  away.  As  it 
happened,  Desplein  asked  him  to  dine  with  him  that  day,  not 
at  his  own  house,  but  at  a  restaurant.  At  dessert  Bianchon 
skilfully  contrived  to  talk  of  the  mass,  speaking  of  it  as  mum- 
mery and  a  farce. 

"A  farce,"  said  Desplein,  "which  has  cost  Christendom 
more  blood  than  all  Napoleon's  battles  and  all  Broussais' 
leeches.  The  mass  is  a  papal  invention,  not  older  than  the 
sixth  century,  and  based  on  the  Hoc  est  corpus.  What  floods 
of  blood  were  shed  to  establish  the  Fete-Dieu,  the  Festival  of 
Corpus  Christi — the  institution  by  which  Rome  established 
her  triumph  in  the  question  of  the  Real  Presence,  a  schism 
which  rent  the  Church  during  three  centuries  !  The  wars  of 
the  Count  of  Toulouse  against  the  Albigenses  were  the  tail 
end  of  that  dispute.  The  Vaudois  and  the  Albigenses  refused 
to  recognize  this  innovation." 

In  short,  Desplein  was  delighted  to  disport  himself  in  his 
most  atheistical  vein  ;  a  flow  of  Voltairian  satire,  or,  to  be 
accurate,  a  vile  imitation  of  the  Citateur. 

"Hallo!  where  is  my  worshiper  of  this  morning?"  said 
Bianchon  to  himself. 

He  said  nothing ;  he  began  to  doubt  whether  he  had  really 
seen  his  chief  at  Saint-Sulpice.  Desplein  would  not  have 
troubled  himself  to  tell  Bianchon  a  lie,  they  knew  each  other 
too  well ;  they  had  already  exchanged  thoughts  on  quite 
equally  serious  subjects,  and  discussed  systems  de  natura 
rei^m  (a  quotation  monger),  probing  or  dissecting  them  with 
the  knife  and  scalpel  of  incredulity. 

Three  months  went  by.  Bianchon  did  not  attempt  to 
follow  the  matter  up,  though  it  remained  stamped  on  his 
memory.     One  day  that  year,  one  of  the  physicians  of  the 


374  THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS. 

Hotel-Dieu  took  Desplein  by  the  arm,  as  if  to  question  him, 
in  Bianchon's  presence. 

"  What  were  you  doing  at  Saint-Sulpice,  my  dear  master?  '* 
said  he. 

"  I  went  to  see  a  priest  who  has  a  diseased  knee-bone,  and 
to  whom  the  Duchesse  d'Angouleme  did  me  the  honor  to 
recommend  me,"  said  Desplein. 

The  questioner  took  this  defeat  for  an  answer;  not  so 
Bianchon. 

"  Oh,  he  goes  to  see  damaged  knees  in  church  !  He  went 
to  mass,"  said  the  young  man  to  himself. 

Bianchon  resolved  to  watch  Desplein.  He  remembered  the 
day  and  hour  when  he  had  detected  him  going  into  Saint- 
Sulpice,  and  resolved  to  be  there  again  next  year  on  the  same 
day  and  at  the  same  hour,  to  see  if  he  should  find  him  there 
again.  In  that  case  the  periodicity  of  his  devotions  would 
justify  a  scientific  investigation ;  for  in  such  a  man  there 
ought  to  be  no  direct  antagonism  of  thought  and  action. 

Next  year,  on  the  said  day  and  hour,  Bianchon,  who  had 
already  ceased  to  be  Desplein's  house  surgeon,  saw  the 
great  man's  cab  standing  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  du 
Petit-Lion,  whence  his  friend  jesuitically  crept  along  by  the 
wall  of  Saint-Sulpice,  and  once  more  attended  mass  in  front 
of  the  Virgin's  altar.  It  was  Desplein,  sure  enough  !  The 
master-surgeon,  the  atheist  at  heart,  the  worshiper  by  chance. 
The  mystery  was  greater  than  ever;  the  regularity  of  the 
phenomenon  complicated  it.  When  Desplein  had  left, 
Bianchon  went  to  the  sacristan,  who  took  charge  of  the 
chapel,  and  asked  him  whether  the  gentleman  was  a  constant 
worshiper. 

"For  twenty  years  that  I  have  been  here,"  replied  the 
man,  **  M.  Desplein  has  come  four  times  a  year  to  attend  this 
mass.     He  founded  it." 

**A  mass  founded  by  him !  "  said  Bianchon,  as  he  went 
away.     **  This  is  as  great  a  mystery  as  the  Immaculate  Con- 


THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS.  375 

caption — an  article  which  alone  is  enough  to  make  a  physician 
an  unbeliever." 

Some  time  elapsed  before  Doctor  Bianchon,  though  so  much 
his  friend,  found  an  opportunity  of  speaking  to  Desplein  of 
this  incident  of  his  life.  Though  they  met  in  consultation  or 
in  society,  it  was  difficult  to  find  an  hour  of  confidential  soli- 
tude when,  sitting  with  their  feet  on  the  fire-dogs  and  their 
heads  resting  on  the  back  of  an  armchair,  two  men  tell  each 
other  their  secrets.  At  last,  seven  years  later,  after  the 
Revolution  of  1830,  when  the  mob  invaded  the  Archbishop's 
residence,  when  Republican  agitators  spurred  them  on  to  de- 
stroy the  gilt  crosses  which  flashed  like  streaks  of  lightning  in 
the  immensity  of  the  ocean  of  houses;  when  incredulity 
flaunted  itself  in  the  streets,  side  by  side  with  rebellion, 
Bianchon  once  more  detected  Desplein  going  into  Saint- 
Sulpice.  The  doctor  followed  him,  and  knelt  down  by  him 
without  the  slightest  notice  or  demonstration  of  surprise  from 
his  friend.     They  both  attended  this  mar^s  of  his  founding. 

"Will  you  tell  me,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Bianchon,  as  they 
left  the  church,  "  the  reason  for  your  fit  of  monkishness?     I 

have  caught  you  three  times  going  to  mass You  !     You 

must  account  to  me  for  this  mystery,  explain  such  a  flagrant 
disagreement  between  your  opinions  and  your  conduct.  You 
do  not  believe  in  God,  and  yet  you  attend  mass.  My  dear 
master,  you  are  bound  to  give  me  an  answer." 

"  I  am  like  a  great  many  devout  people,  men  who  on  the 
surface  are  deeply  religious,  but  quite  as  much  atheists  as  you 
or  I  can  be. ' ' 

And  he  poured  out  a  torrent  of  epigrams  on  certain  politi- 
cal personages,  of  whom  the  best  known  gives  us,  in  this  cen- 
tury, a  new  edition  of  Moliere's  "  Tartufe." 

"All  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  my  question,"  retorted 
Bianchon.  "I  want  to  know  the  reason  for  what  you  have 
just  been  doing,  and  wliy  you  founded  this  mass." 

"  Faith  !  my  dear  boy,"  said  Desplein,  "  I  am  on  the  verge 


376  THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS. 

of  the  tomb;  I  may  safely  tell  you  about  the  beginning  of 
my  life." 

At  this  moment  Bianchon  and  the  great  man  were  in  the 
Rue  des  Quatre-Vents,  one  of  the  worst  streets  in  Paris. 
Desplein  pointed  to  the  sixth  floor  of  one  of  the  houses  look- 
ing like  obelisks,  of  which  the  narrow  door  opens  into  a 
passage  with  a  winding  staircase  at  the  end,  with  windows 
appropriately  termed  "borrowed  lights,"  or,  in  French,  days 
of  affliction.  It  was  a  greenish  structure ;  the  ground  floor 
occupied  by  a  furniture  dealer,  while  each  floor  seemed  to 
shelter  a  different  and  independent  form  of  misery.  Throw- 
ing up  his  arm  with  a  vehement  gesture,  Desplein  exclaimed — 

"  I  lived  up  there  for  two  years." 

"I  know;  Arthez  lived  there;  I  went  up  there  almost 
every  day  during  my  first  youth ;  we  used  to  call  it  then  the 
pickle-jar  of  great  men  !     What  then  ?  " 

"The  mass  I  have  just  attended  is  connected  with  some 
events  which  took  place  at  the  time  when  I  lived  in  the  garret 
where  you  say  Arthez  lived  :  the  one  with  the  window  where 
the  clothes-line  is  hanging  with  linen  over  a  pot  of  flowers. 
My  early  life  was  so  hard,  my  dear  Bianchon,  that  I  may  dis- 
pute the  palm  of  Paris  suffering  with  any  man  living.  I  have 
endured  everything :  hunger  and  thirst,  want  of  money,  want 
of  clothes,  of  shoes,  of  linen,  every  cruelty  that  penury  can 
inflict.  I  have  blown  on  my  frozen  fingers  in  that  pickle-jar 
of  great  men,  which  I  should  like  to  see  again,  now,  with  you. 
I  worked  through  a  whole  winter,  seeing  my  head  steam,  and 
perceiving  the  atmosphere  of  my  own  moisture  as  we  see  that 
of  horses  on  a  frosty  day.  I  do  not  know  where  a  man 
finds  the  fulcrum  that  enables  him  to  hold  out  against  such  a 
life. 

"  I  was  alone,  with  no  one  to  help  me,  no  money  to  buy 
books  or  to  pay  the  expenses  of  my  medical  training ;  I  had 
not  a  friend  ;  my  irascible,  touchy,  restless  temper  was  against 
pie.     No  one  iind^rstood  that  this  irritability  was  the  distress 


THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS.  ZTJ 

and  toil  of  a  man  who,  at  the  bottom  of  the  social  scale,  is 
struggling  to  reach  the  surface.  Still,  I  had,  as  I  may  say  to 
you,  before  whom  I  need  wear  no  draperies,  I  had  that  ground- 
bed  of  good  feeling  and  keen  sensitiveness  which  must  always 
be  the  birthright  of  any  man  who  is  strong  enough  to  climb 
to  any  height  whatever,  after  having  long  trampled  in  the 
bogs  of  poverty.  I  could  obtain  nothing  from  my  family, 
nor  from  my  home,  beyond  my  inadequate  allowance.  In 
short,  at  that  time,  I  breakfasted  off  a  roll  which  the  baker  in 
the  Rue  du  Petit-Lion  sold  me  cheap  because  it  was  left  from 
yesterday  or  the  day  before,  and  I  crumbled  it  into  milk; 
thus  my  morning  meal  cost  me  but  two  sous.  I  dined  only 
every  other  day  in  a  boarding-house  where  the  meal  cost  me 
sixteen  sous.  You  know  as  well  as  I  what  care  I  must  have 
taken  of  my  clothes  and  shoes.  I  hardly  know  whether  in 
later  life  we  feel  grief  so  deep  when  a  colleague  plays  us  false, 
as  we  have  known,  you  and  I,  on  detecting  the  mocking  smile 
of  a  gaping  seam  in  a  shoe,  or  hearing  the  armhole  of  a  coat 
split.  I  drank  nothing  but  water;  I  regarded  a  cafe  with  dis- 
tant respect.  Zoppi's  seemed  to  me  a  promised  land  where 
none  but  the  Lucullus  of  the  pays  Latin  had  a  right  of  entry, 
'Shall  I  ever  take  a  cup  of  coffee  there  with  milk  in  it?'  said 
I  to  myself,  '  or  play  a  game  of  dominoes?  ' 

"  I  threw  into  my  work  the  fury  I  felt  at  my  misery.  I  tried  to 
master  positive  knowledge  so  as  to  acquire  the  greatest  personal 
value,  and  merit  the  position  I  should  hold  as  soon  as  I  could 
escape  from  nothingness.  I  consumed  more  oil  than  bread; 
the  light  I  burned  during  these  endless  nights  cost  me  more 
than  food.  It  was  a  long  duel,  obstinate,  with  no  sort  of  con- 
solation, I  found  no  sympathy  anywhere.  To  have  friends 
must  we  not  form  connections  with  young  men,  have  a  few 
sous  so  as  to  be  able  to  go  tippling  with  them  and  meet  them 
where  students  congregate ?  And  I  had  nothing!  And  no 
one  in  Paris  can  understand  that  nothing  means  nothing. 
When  I  even  thought  of  revealing  my  beggary,  I  had  that 


378  THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS. 

nervous  contraction  of  the  throat  which  makes  a  sick  man 
believe  that  a  ball  rises  up  from  the  oesophagus  into  the  larynx. 

"  In  later  life  I  have  met  people  born  to  wealth  who,  never 
having  wanted  for  anything,  had  never  even  heard  this 
problem  in  the  rule  of  three :  A  young  man  is  to  crime  as  a 
five-franc  piece  is  to  x.  These  gilded  idiots  say  to  me,  '  Why 
did  you  get  into  debt  ?  Why  did  you  involve  yourself  in 
such  onerous  obligations?'  They  remind  me  of  the  princess 
who,  on  hearing  that  the  people  lacked  bread,  said,  '  Why  do 
they  not  buy  cakes  ?  '  I  should  like  to  see  one  of  these  rich 
men,  who  complain  that  I  charge  too  much  for  an  operation, 
— yes,  I  should  like  to  see  him  alone  in  Paris  without  a  sou, 
without  a  friend,  without  credit,  and  forced  to  work  with  his 
five  fingers  to  live  at  all !  What  would  he  do?  Where  would 
he  go  to  satisfy  his  hunger  ? 

"  Bianchon,  if  you  have  sometimes  seen  me  hard  and  bitter, 
it  was  because  I  was  adding  my  early  sufferings  on  to  the  in- 
sensibility, the  selfishness  of  which  I  have  seen  thousands  of 
instances  in  the  highest  circles ;  or,  perhaps,  I  was  thinking 
of  the  obstacles  which  hatred,  envy,  jealousy,  and  calumny 
raised  up  between  me  and  success.  In  Paris,  when  certain 
people  see  you  ready  to  set  your  foot  in  the  stirrup,  some  pull 
your  coat-tails,  others  loosen  the  buckle  of  the  strap  that  you 
may  fall  and  crack  your  skull ;  one  wrenches  off  your  horse's 
shoes,  another  steals  your  whip,  and  the  least  treacherous  of 
them  all  is  the  man  whom  you  see  coming  to  fire  his  pistol  at 
you  point-blank. 

"You  yourself,  my  dear  boy,  are  clever  enough  to  make 
acquaintance  before  long  with  the  odious  and  incessant  war- 
fare waged  by  mediocrity  against  the  superior  man.  If  you 
should  drop  five  and  twenty  louis  one  day,  you  will  be  accused 
of  gambling  on  the  next,  and  your  best  friends  will  report 
that  you  have  lost  twenty-five  thousand.  If  you  have  a  head- 
ache, you  will  be  considered  mad.  If  you  are  a  little  hasty, 
no  one  can  live  with  you.     If,  to  make  a  stand  against  this 


THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS.  379 

armament  of  pigmies,  you  collect  your  best  powers,  your  best 
friends  will  cry  out  that  you  want  to  have  everything,  that 
you  aim  at  domineering,  at  tyranny.  In  short,  your  good 
points  will  become  your  faults,  your  faults  will  be  vices,  and 
your  virtues  crimes. 

"If  you  save  a  man,  you  will  be  said  to  have  killed  him; 
if  he  reappears  on  the  scene,  it  will  be  positive  that  you  have 
secured  the  present  at  the  cost  of  the  future.  If  he  is  not 
dead,  he  will  die.  Stumble,  and  you  fall  !  Invent  anything 
of  any  kind  and  claim  your  rights,  you  will  be  crotchety,  cun- 
ning, ill-disposed  to  rising  younger  men. 

"  So,  you  see,  my  dear  fellow,  if  I  do  not  believe  in  God, 
I  believe  still  less  in  man.  But  do  you  not  know  in  me 
another  Desplein,  altogether  different  from  the  Desplein  whom 
every  one  abuses?     However,  we  will  not  stir  that  mud-heap. 

"  Well,  I  was  living  in  that  house,  I  was  working  hard  to 
pass  my  first  examination,  and  I  had  no  money  at  all.  You 
know.  I  had  come  to  one  of  those  moments  of  extremity 
when  a  man  says,  '  I  will  enlist.'  I  had  one  hope.  I  expected 
from  my  home  a  box  full  of  linen,  a  present  from  one  of 
those  old  aunts  who,  knowing  nothing  of  Paris,  think  of  your 
shirts,  while  they  imagine  that  their  nephew  with  thirty  francs 
a  month  is  eating  ortolans.  The  box  arrived  while  I  was  at 
the  schools ;  it  had  cost  forty  francs  for  carriage.  The  porter, 
a  German  shoemaker  living  in  a  loft,  had  paid  the  money 
and  kept  the  box.  I  walked  up  and  down  the  Rue  des  Fosses- 
Saint-Germain-des-Pres  and  the  Rue  de  I'Ecole  de  M^decine 
without  hitting  on  any  scheme  which  would  release  my  trunk 
without  the  payment  of  the  forty  francs,  which  of  course  I 
could  pay  as  soon  as  I  should  have  sold  the  linen.  My  stu- 
pidity proved  to  me  that  surgery  was  my  only  vocation.  My 
good  fellow,  refined  souls,  whose  powers  move  in  a  lofty 
atmosphere,  have  none  of  that  spirit  of  intrigue  that  is  fertile 
in  resource  and  device  ;  their  good  genius  is  chance ;  they  do 
not  invent,  things  come  to  them. 


380  THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS. 

"At  night  I  went  home,  at  the  very  moment  when  my 
fellow-lodger  also  came  in — a  water-carrier  named  Bourgeat, 
a  native  of  Saint-Flour.  We  knew  each  other  as  two  lodgers 
do  who  have  rooms  off  the  same  landing,  and  who  hear  each 
other  sleeping,  coughing,  dressing,  and  so  at  last  become  used 
to  one  another.  My  neighbor  informed  me  that  the  landlord, 
to  whom  I  owed  three-quarters'  rent,  had  turned  me  out ;  I 
must  clear  out  next  morning.  He  himself  was  also  turned 
out  on  account  of  his  occupation.  I  spent  the  most  miserable 
night  of  my  life.  Where  was  I  to  get  a  messenger  who  could 
carry  my  few  chattels  and  my  books  ?  How  could  I  pay  him 
and  the  porter?  Where  was  I  to  go?  I  repeated  these 
unanswerable  questions  again  and  again,  in  tears,  as  madmen 
repeat  their  tunes.  I  fell  asleep ;  poverty  has  for  its  friend 
heavenly  slumbers  full  of  beautiful  dreams. 

"  Next  morning,  just  as  I  was  swallowing  my  little  bowl  of 
bread  soaked  in  milk,  Bourgeat  came  in  and  said  to  me  in  his 
vile  Auvergne  accent — 

"'Mister  Student,  I  am  a  very  poor  man,  a  foundling 
from  the  hospital  at  Saint-Flour,  without  either  father  or 
mother,  and  not  rich  enough  to  marry.  You  are  not  fertile 
in  relations  either,  nor  well  supplied  with  the  ready?  Listen, 
I  have  a  hand-cart  downstairs  which  I  have  hired  for  two  sous 
an  hour;  it  will  hold  all  our  goods  ;  if  you  like,  we  will  try 
to  find  lodgings  together,  since  we  are  both  turned  out  of  this. 
It  is  not  the  earthly  paradise,  when  all  is  said  and  done.* 

"  '  I  know  that,  my  good  Bourgeat,'  said  I.  'But  I  am  in 
a  great  fix.  I  have  a  trunk  downstairs  with  a  hundred  francs' 
worth  of  linen  in  it,  out  of  which  I  could  pay  the  landlord 
and  all  I  owe  to  the  porter,  and  I  have  not  a  hundred  sous.* 
"  '  Pooh  !  I  have  a  few  dibs,'  replied  Bourgeat  joyfully, 
and  he  pulled  out  a  greasy  old  leather  purse.  '  Keep  your 
linen.' 

"Bourgeat  paid  up  my  arrears  and  his  own,  and  settled 
with  the  porter.     Then  he  put  our  furniture  and  my  box  of 


THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS.  381 

linen  in  his  cart,  and  pulled  it  along  the  street,  stopping  in 
front  of  every  house  where  there  was  a  notice  board.  I  went 
up  to  see  whether  the  rooms  to  let  would  suit  us.  At  mid-day 
we  were  still  wandering  about  the  neighborhood  without 
having  found  anything.  The  price  was  the  great  difficulty. 
Bourgeat  proposed  that  we  should  eat  at  a  wine-shop,  leaving 
the  cart  at  the  door.  Towards  evening  I  discovered,  in  the 
Cour  de  Rohan,  Passage  du  Commerce,  at  the  very  top  of  a 
house  next  the  roof,  two  rooms  with  a  staircase  between  them. 
Each  of  us  was  to  pay  sixty  francs  a  year.  So  there  we  were 
housed,  my  humble  friend  and  I.  We  dined  together. 
Bourgeat,  who  earned  about  fifty  sous  a  day,  had  saved  a  hun- 
dred crowns  or  so  ;  he  would  soon  be  able  to  gratify  his 
ambition  by  buying  a  barrel  and  a  horse.  On  learning  my 
situation — for  he  extracted  my  secrets  with  a  quiet  craftiness 
and  good-nature,  of  which  the  remembrance  touches  my  heart 
to  this  day,  he  gave  up  for  a  time  the  ambition  of  his  whole 
life  ;  for  twenty-two  years  he  had  been  carrying  water  in  the 
street,  and  he  now  devoted  his  hundred  crowns  to  my  future 
prospects. ' ' 

Desplein  at  these  words  clutched  Bianchon's  arm  tightly. 
"  He  gave  me  the  money  for  my  examination  fees  !  That 
man,  my  friend,  understood  that  I  had  a  mission,  that  the 
needs  of  my  intellect  were  greater  than  his.  He  looked  after 
me,  he  called  me  his  boy,  he  loaned  me  money  to  buy  books, 
he  would  come  in  softly  sometimes  to  watch  me  at  work,  and 
took  a  mother's  care  in  seeing  that  I  had  wholesome  and 
abundant  food,  instead  of  the  bad  and  insufficient  nourish- 
ment I  had  been  condemned  to.  Bourgeat,  a  man  of  about 
forty,  had  a  homely,  mediaeval  type  efface,  a  prominent  fore- 
head, a  head  that  a  painter  might  have  chosen  as  a  model  for 
that  of  Lycurgus.  The  poor  man's  heart  was  big  with  affec- 
tions seeking  an  object ;  he  had  never  been  loved  but  by  a 
poodle  that  had  died  some  time  since,  of  which  he  would  talk 
to  me,   asking  whether  I  thought  the  Church  would  allow 


382  THE   ATHEIST'S  MASS. 

masses  to  be  said  for  the  repose  of  its  soul.  His  dog,  said  he, 
had  been  a  good  Christian,  who  for  twelve  years  had  accom- 
panied him  to  church,  never  barking,  listening  to  the  organ 
without  opening  his  mouth,  and  crouching  beside  him  in  a 
way  that  made  it  seem  as  though  he  were  praying  too. 

"This  man  centred  all  his  affections  in  me;  he  looked 
upon  me  as  a  forlorn  and  suffering  creature,  and  he  became, 
to  me,  the  most  thoughtful  mother,  the  most  considerate 
benefactor,  the  ideal  of  the  virtue  which  rejoices  in  its  own 
work.  When  I  met  him  in  the  street,  he  would  throw  me  a 
glance  of  intelligence  full  of  unutterable  dignity ;  he  would 
aff'ect  to  walk  as  though  he  carried  no  weight,  and  seemed 
happy  in  seeing  me  in  good  health  and  well  dressed.  It  was, 
in  fact,  the  devoted  affection  of  the  lower  classes,  the  love  of 
a  girl  of  the  people  transferred  to  a  loftier  level.  Bourgeat 
did  all  my  errands,  woke  me  at  night  at  any  fixed  hour, 
trimmed  my  lamp,  cleaned  our  landing ;  as  good  as  a  servant 
as  he  was  as  a  father,  and  as  clean  as  an  English  girl.  He 
did  all  the  housework.  Like  Philopcemen,  he  sawed  our  wood, 
and  gave  to  all  he  did  the  grace  of  simplicity  while  preserving 
his  dignity,  for  he  seemed  to  understand  that  the  end  ennobles 
every  act. 

"When  I  left  this  good  fellow,  to  be  house  surgeon  at  the 
Hotel-Dieu,  I  felt  an  indescribable,  dull  pain,  knowing  that 
he  could  no  longer  live  with  me ;  but  he  comforted  himself 
with  the  prospect  of  saving  up  money  enough  for  me  to  take 
my  degree,  and  he  made  me  promise  to  go  to  see  him  when- 
ever I  had  a  day  out :  Bourgeat  was  proud  of  me.  He  loved 
me  for  my  own  sake,  and  for  his  own.  If  you  look  up  my 
thesis,  you  will  see  that  I  dedicated  it  to  him. 

"  During  the  last  year  of  my  residence  as  house  surgeon  I 
earned  enough  to  repay  all  I  owed  to  this  worthy  Auvergnat 
by  buying  him  a  barrel  and  a  horse.  He  was  furious  with 
rage  at  learning  that  I  had  been  depriving  myself  of  spending 
my  money,  and  yet  he  was  delighted  so  see  his  wishes  ful- 


THE   ATHEIST'S  MASS.  383 

filled  ;  he  laughed  and  scolded,  he  looked  at  his  barrel,  at  his 
horse,  and  wiped  away  a  tear,  as  he  said,  'It  is  too  bad. 
What  a  splendid  barrel  !  You  really  ought  not.  Why,  that 
horse  is  as  strong  as  an  Auvergnat !  ' 

"  I  never  saw  a  more  touching  scene.  Bourgeat  insisted  on 
buying  for  me  the  case  of  instruments  mounted  in  silver  which 
you  have  seen  in  my  room,  and  which  is  to  me  the  most  pre- 
cious thing  there.  Though  enchanted  with  my  first  success, 
never  did  the  least  sign,  the  least  word,  escape  him  which 
might  imply,  '  This  man  owes  all  to  me  !  '  And  yet,  but  for 
him,  I  should  have  died  of  want. 

"  He  fell  ill.  As  you  may  suppose,  I  passed  my  nights  by 
his  bedside,  and  the  first  time  I  pulled  him  through  ;  but  two 
years  after  he  had  a  relapse ;  in  spite  of  the  utmost  care,  in 
spite  of  the  greatest  exertions  of  science,  he  succumbed.  No 
king  was  ever  nursed  as  he  was.  Yes,  Bianchon,  to  snatch 
that  man  from  death  I  tried  unheard-of  things.  I  wanted 
him  to  live  long  enough  to  show  him  his  work  accomplished, 
to  realize  all  his  hopes,  to  give  expression  to  the  only  need 
for  gratitude  that  ever  filled  my  heart,  to  quench  a  fire  that 
burns  in  me  to  this  day. 

"Bourgeat,  my  second  father,  died  in  my  arms,"  Desplein 
went  on,  after  a  pause,  visibly  moved.  "  He  left  me  every- 
thing he  possessed  by  a  will  he  had  had  made  by  a  public 
scrivener,  dating  from  the  year  when  we  had  gone  to  live  in 
the  Cour  de  Rohan. 

**  This  man's  faith  was  perfect ;  he  loved  the  Holy  Virgin 
as  he  might  have  loved  his  wife.  He  was  an  ardent  Catholic, 
but  never  said  a  word  to  me  about  my  want  of  religion. 
When  he  was  dying  he  entreated  me  to  spare  no  expense  that  he 
might  have  every  possible  benefit  of  the  clergy.  I  had  a  mass 
said  for  him  every  day.  Often,  in  the  night,  he  would  tell  me 
of  his  fears  as  to  his  future  fate ;  he  feared  his  life  had  not  been 
saintly  enough.  Poor  man  !  he  was  at  work  from  morning 
till   night.      For   whom,    then,    is    paradise — if  there   be   a 


384  THE  ATHEIST'S  MASS. 

paradise?  He  received  the  last  sacrament  like  the  saint  that 
he  was,  and  his  death  was  worthy  of  his  life. 

"  I  alone  followed  him  to  the  grave.  When  I  had  laid  my 
only  benefactor  to  rest,  I  looked  about  to  see  how  I  could  pay 
my  debt  to  him  ;  I  found  he  had  neither  family  nor  friends, 
neither  wife  nor  child.  But  he  believed.  He  had  a  religious 
conviction;  had  I  any  right  to  dispute  it?  He  had  spoken 
to  me  timidly  of  masses  said  for  the  repose  of  the  dead ;  he 
would  not  impress  it  on  me  as  a  duty,  thinking  that  it  would 
be  a  form  of  repayment  for  his  services.  As  soon  as  I  had 
money  enough  I  paid  to  Saint-Sulpice  the  requisite  sum  for 
four  masses  every  year.  As  the  only  thing  I  can  do  for 
Bourgeat  is  thus  to  satisfy  his  pious  wishes,  on  the  days  when 
that  mass  is  said,  at  the  beginning  of  each  season  of  the  year, 
I  go  for  his  sake  and  say  the  required  prayers ;  and  I  say  with 
the  good  faith  of  a  sceptic — '  Great  God,  if  there  is  a  sphere 
which  Tliou  hast  appointed  after  death  for  those  who  have  been 
perfect,  remember  good  Bourgeat ;  and  if  he  should  have  any- 
thing to  suffer,  let  me  suffer  it  for  him,  that  he  may  enter  all 
the  sooner  into  what  is  called  paradise.' 

"  That,  my  dear  fellow,  is  as  much  as  a  man  who  holds  my 
opinions  can  allow  himself.  But  God  must  be  a  good  fellow ; 
He  cannot  owe  me  any  grudge.  I  swear  to  you,  I  would  give 
my  whole  fortune  if  faith  such  as  Bourgeat's  could  enter  my 
brain." 

Bianchon,  who  was  with  Desplein  all  through  his  last  illness, 
dares  not  affirm  to  this  day  that  the  great  surgeon  died  an 
atheist.  Will  not  those  who  believe  like  to  fancy  that  the 
humble  Auvergnat  came  to  open  the  gate  of  heaven  to  his 
friend,  as  he  did  that  of  the  earthly  temple  on  whose  pedi- 
ment we  read  the  words — "  A  grateful  country  to  its  great 
men." 

^^Vakis,  January y  i8j6. 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


